The 87th Annual Hunger Games: Reign of Blood
by Never An Honest Word
Summary: President Alexandre Ivre, leader during the three bloodiest Games ever, has an idea to really spice up the next one. As twenty-four tributes are flung into an all new arena, they will be faced with horrifying challenges, blood, and explosions. Lots of explosions, courtesy of delightfully mad Gamemaker Dane Eclater. Oh, and explosions. Rated T for language and violence. SYOT CLOSED!
1. Alexandre Ivre: Reign of Blood

**Hey guys, Chase here with my newest project—an SYOT! It's been literally FOREVER since I've done one (almost two years I think) and I honestly think my writing style was… pretty damn bad then; I've taken the time to practice and I think my writing has gotten literally leaps and bounds better, so I figured I'd attempt it again. For the most part, I'm going to be devoting most of my writing time to this, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with Halfling. **

**Anyway, I'll get into the details of this all now—this is the 87****th**** Annual Hunger Games. The president of Panem at this time is Alexandre Ivre (if you're familiar with French, you'll see a pattern in his last name ;) ) and he has brought about a time of peace—he destroyed District 13 and has even made the Districts a little richer through his own generosity and improving life in the Capitol a little more. Now for the history—in the 74****th**** Hunger Games, Thresh managed to survive his battle with Cato—barely. Cato managed to kill Peeta in their skirmish at the Cornucopia before being shot by Katniss. Thresh came in hard and was planning to avenge Rue by killing Cato (he hadn't seen that he had died) and killed Katniss by mistake. Thresh ended up winning, though he sent a third of his prize money to Rue's family, another third to Katniss's family, then kept the rest.**

**Now, on with the chapter! The tribute application is at the end of the chapter.**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does, and while I hardly agree with what she did with the series, it's still not mine.<strong>

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><p><strong>August 17<strong>**th****, 21:00 – The Capitol**

The burgundy curtain rises from the stage. A sea of spectators in impossibly ridiculous outfits with grotesque body alterations and insanely stupid hairstyles and colours lays before it, quiet with anticipation. On the dark wood of the stage rests a single brown leather armchair, with a lone spotlight beating down upon it.

Darkness has enveloped the area; a small dome has been put up to keep out the lights and sound of the city. A rounded hole about as wide as a car is open at the top, to provide fresh air; the beautiful night sky serves as the only other light for the crowd, the rest of the lighting had been extinguished to enhance the spotlight. The various nebulae and celestial bodies act as observers for this event…

…this barbaric, bloody event. A man in a black suit ambles onto the stage, a drunken smile pasted on his pale face. He is very tall, with shaggy brown hair and pale eyes; his suit jacket is loose and unbuttoned, revealing a wrinkled, though pristinely clean white shirt with a stained orange tie. With every other step he stumbles, making his way over to the chair. As he finally gets to the leather armchair, he closes his eyes and his smile softens as he seems to fall backward—landing almost perfectly in it. "WOO!" he yells loudly, his voice being amplified to levels that hurt the crowd's ears (well, the ones whose ears hadn't been worked on or anything). "Welcome, citizens of the Capitol!"

As the man gets no response, he calls out again, "Come on, Capitol! Let me here you—good evening, Capitolites!" he says in a somewhat slurred voice, giggling happily.

"Good evening, President Ivre," the citizens respond with a lack of emotion; they had been subject to this for several years now, though they couldn't find a reason to impeach this imbecile.

Alexandre Ivre, President of the country of Panem, is by all means a drunk. Normally, that alone would be enough to get rid of the man, especially considering he had concealed it until his Inauguration ceremony. However, the fact that this man has proved to be a better president than the past three (Kyler, Quinn and Snow, in chronological order) combined had been enough to save his intoxicated ass. Oh—and the fact that his vice president is a raving lunatic who belongs in an asylum.

Through his presidency, Ivre has showed up to important events in at least two of the three manners at the same time: drunk, sloppy and/or half-asleep. Nonetheless, his record is impeccable—he has ensured the safety of Panem by sending an army to completely destroy District 13; everyone had believed it to be destroyed, though it was a closely guarded secret amongst the leaders that it was still very much there—and very much a threat. He has presided over three of the bloodiest Hunger Games in history—the 80th, 81st and 85th; in each game more than fourteen tributes were killed at the Cornucopia and there had been at least one psychopath in each game—usually they died in a disaster caused by the Gamemakers, though one went on to eliminate all six Career tributes (and nearly won before being knocked into a volcano by a boy from District 11). Somehow, the Districts were at least not verbally abusive of him—he had managed to make them just a tiny bit richer by divvying up part of his paycheck (which was rather impressive) and donating it to each District; in turn, they worked harder and produced more product, and getting more supplies for the Capitol.

All in all, the citizens of the Capitol were content with a drunk who improved the conditions of the country, even if it were only slightly. And so, each year around this time, they put up with his drunken antics of how he would make each years' Hunger Games gory and entertaining—because let's face it: gory means entertaining. No one could particularly argue with that logic—especially since it wasn't THEIR children going to fight to the death.

"Muuuuuuch better~" says Ivre with a happy gurgling noise. "So, I suppose you're here to hear what'll be going down this year! He-hey, that rhymed~~" he says, reclining in his chair and flailing his arms. In the catwalk, the spotlight operator takes one of his gloved hands away from the rig and smacks himself in the face, causing the orb of light to waver a little. Unfortunately, the drunken president's eyes had been barely open, and they snap wide awake and his hand points up at the operator. "GUARDS! Execute and replace the operator."

"No please! I have children!" cries the man, trying to run to the other end of the catwalk, only to be dragged away by a man in a black suit.

Oh yes—forgot to mention one thing. Ivre is an insane type of drunk.

As soon as the man was dragged away, another operator rushed to take his place, careful not to allow the spotlight to move. His smile returning, the president continues. "Excellent. Now, back to what I was saying~~ this year, we're going to be stealing… er, _implementing_… heheh, that's a big word. _Implementing_… c'mon, Capitolites, say it with me!"

"_Implementing…"_ drones the crowd.

"Anyways, we're going to be implementing a tactic I found in a book I read called Royal Battlestar Galactica… or some shit like that. The whole map is going to be divided up into a sector—each day, twice a day, random sectors will be chosen to be designated as 'Forbidden Zones,'" says Ivre, doing the air quotes and drawing out the 'Zones'. "Zooooooonesssss…" he laughs drunkenly. "…Where was I again? Oh yes! Forbidden Zones. Should a tribute step into these, cake will rain from the sky~! No wait, that's my plan for expansion. Um… what happens if a tribute steps into a forbidden zone?" he asks, moving a hand to an earpiece that hung loosely from the side of his head.

After a brief moment of chatter from that end, he nods and then continues. "That's right—they'll be blown up immediately! To keep note of the Forbidden Zones, each tribute will be given a map and a marker to draw on. The map will not provide any details besides locations that will determine where they are—say, a lighthouse would signify… I don't know, A1 steak sauce? It's not my job to make this stuff... I'm still not sure if we're doing this or not. Too druuuuuuunk~" Ivre shrugs again. "Anyway… yeah, I's thinkin' that that's it, y'all!" he slurs out, lounging his legs over one of the arms of his chair, putting one of his arms over his eyes. "Now get the hell out of here, I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

A round of chatter broke the sudden silence as the lights on the stage went out, followed by Ivre yelling, "Alright, next person who talks is going to die!" which effectively silences everyone. Directed by men with flashlights, the crowd shuffles out of the arena in complete quiet—100% sure that the president would keep true to his promise of killing the next person to speak.

And Ivre slept in that very chair without disturbance for two whole days. When he finally woke up, he ordered for his twin Secretaries of Press, Darwin and Donnel Raedwulf, to be executed and replaced by his horse in a bout of hung-over fury.

Then he demanded another bottle of whiskey.

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><p><strong>Tribute Application<strong>

**Name of Tribute: (First and last. Middle name unnecessary)  
><strong>

**Age: (12-18, obviously)  
><strong>

**Gender: (No need to explain)  
><strong>

**District (Top 3):**

**Reaped or Volunteered:**

**Appearance: (I'd prefer a little bit of description here; how they usually style their hair, how tall they are, body style, etc.)**

**Personality: ("Cool, calm, collective" isn't going to cut it—I need a pretty decent setup here. Phobias, things they like, strange tendencies they have, etc.)**

**History: (Self-explanatory. I'd prefer a decent bit of backstory, but make sure it's REALISTIC. If you're in District 12, you more than likely didn't learn to hunt like Katniss did. You were probably poor and struggling, even if you lived in the Merchant area. That's just a fact.)**

**Family:**

**Friends:**

**Token: (Optional)**

**Have they had training? If yes, how?: (NOT every tribute should have training. I may end up changing a few things on tributes to keep things balanced)**

**Are they willing to join the Careers?: (Obviously it depends on if they're good enough or not)**

**Are they willing to join an alliance?: **

**Strengths: (Minimum 3, Maximum 5)**

**Weaknesses: (Minimum 3, no maximum)**

**Weapon of choice: (No major thought needs to be put into this—just something they'd be able to use. Strong tributes may use heavy weapons like spears, maces, maybe even fists. Weaker tributes would probably use slings, blowguns or bows if they can find them, maybe even traps)**

**Would they be open to a relationship with another tribute?**

**Interview angle: (I.e. Witty, smart, quiet, distant, etc.)**

**And that should be it! I prefer your applications by PM, though I will accept them through reviews. Thanks for checking this out, hope to see you later~**

**~Chase**

**P.S. Depending on the reaction, I may or may not do the Battle Royale idea of Forbidden Zones. So make sure to include your opinion with your application! ALSO: Reserves ARE welcome, but you must, I repeat, MUST have the application in within a weeks' time. If not, you forfeit your spot on the tribute and may have to settle (that is to say, if you can get it in). All reserves MUST be requested through PM.  
><strong>


	2. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 1

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a bit of a filler episode! It's meant to be more humourous and light-hearted, explaining the past thirteen years in Panem—or at least the little series that it's a part of will; these will be coming out from time to time while waiting for the tributes to come in, to make sure people see the story. I'm not planning to start the Reapings until I get enough tributes in, although there's a good chance that I'll start if things are going a little slowly. As always you can see the application in the first chapter. Please apply, or at least review! Applications are accepted through reviews OR PM's. Thanks!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Despite my many disagreements with what Suzanne Collins did with the series, she owns it. Not me.<strong>

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><p><strong>August 21<strong>**st****, 19:00 – The Capitol**

The mansion of President Ivre was quite humble compared to the last president's; of course, why shouldn't it? Ivre is a man of simple means. It's a simple two-story building, though what it lacks in height it makes up for in length—the bottom floor itself, despite having only two rooms, was at least a kilometre long; the grand ballroom was quite the breathtaking sight, with its tasteful paintings and beautifully patterned floors and ceilings; and the dining hall was like something you'd see in a myth—with a long wooden table that could seat many, and could hold much food and drink to last decades. However, the room that is drawing our interest right now is the president's personal living room.

It's a warm room with a large fireplace with a burning fire raging inside it; above it sits a long, singular flatscreen television. The room is painted a tan colour with a long couch capable of sitting several people at a time, made of a white material; beside it set two matching end tables with lamps atop them. Three armchairs are scattered about the room, one in a perpetual state of disarray—in fact, it's completely flipped over. A few empty bottles of whiskey lay about it like grave markers—this is usually the president's chair. However, at this particular time, Ivre is laying on the couch with an arm slung over his eyes; his mane of shaggy brown hair lays spread out like pools of tilled soil, and he currently wears a pair of dark shorts and a purple tank top. In his right arm, the one that is not covering his eyes, he clutches a black remote control; a second later, his grip on the remote loosens and it falls to the ground face-down, and suddenly the TV turns on.

"Muh? The hell is that…?" grumbles Ivre, bolting up and eventually falling off the couch. He lays there facedown for several minutes as the television makes a strange whirring noise. The screen turns white for a second, before music starts blaring and words appear on it. He rolls over and looks at it. "Damn… I must've bought that history movie after all…"

_Panem: A History—From the Decades of Driving Snow to the Days of Flowing Ale_ is displayed on the black and purple screen in orange lettering in varying shades, giving it the appearance of burning flames. Ivre sighed. "Nothing better to do… guess I'll watch this for a while."

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><p>Roughly an hour later, after some boring crap about President Snow's staff, the picture immediately turned to that of a dense forest; a girl with long black hair is running from a volley of fireballs that fling past her. The picture shrinks and moves to one of the corners, followed by more pictures; the words <em>The Seventy-fourth Hunger Games—President Snow's Finest Hour?<em> are splayed across it. Ivre focuses more intensely on this—Ivre had, in the few hours he spent sober during the first year of his presidency, studied quite intently on the mistakes of his predecessor.

A few minutes later, the final battle of those games were shown—Katniss Everdeen, known as the Girl on Fire, and Peeta Mellark of District 12 were fighting Cato Aquilus of District 2 atop the Cornucopia; the blonde boy of District 12 was forcing him back with a spear, though his blows were often parried by Cato's sword. Katniss shot arrows at him to keep him off balance, but finally Cato landed a blow on Peeta—a fearsome slice right across his stomach, probably a good three inches deep. The blonde boy staggers backward and falls into the mouth of the golden Cornucopia, his body sprawled back over a supply crate, eyes wide open and as lifeless as the starless night sky above him. Katniss screams out, "PEETA!" and fires an arrow into Cato's neck.

As Cato's bulky, armour-covered body topples over the edge and falls onto Peeta's, making the black supply crate that served like an unlit funeral pyre buckle underneath their combined weights, Katniss is waiting for the trumpets that would announce her victory. Then at the sound of some crackling off in the distance, she gives a confused look and jumps down to inspect Peeta and Cato's bodies. The wooden lid of the almost treasure chest-like container is beginning to splinter under the combined weight of the two larger boys. She unceremoniously pushes Cato's corpse off of it, taking the arrow that was stuck in his jugular (similar to how she had killed one of his teammates a week or so earlier) and then gingerly laid Peeta's on the ground. She bends over Peeta's body and quietly brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Peeta…" she whispers, taking the extra quiver of arrows he was carrying for her.

"YAAAAAH!" the screaming comes from the high field amongst the tall grass. Some roaring follows it.

"No… but he died, didn't he? Cato said he killed him…" Katniss says quietly. Then Thresh comes charging out of the field, with several dogs hot on his tail—the same dogs that had chased Katniss, Peeta and Cato to the Cornucopia. She puts an arrow to her bowstring and draws it back, aiming at his chest, but he's on her too fast, knocking her to the ground in an attempt to get away from the dogs. She falls flat on her stomach and pushes herself up using the crate as a protective shield; she scrambles to get an arrow into her bow and manages to shoot it into the throat of one of the ugly dogs, sending it colliding to the ground.

Katniss looks behind her—Thresh has gotten away. Far away. She can't imagine how long it's been since he pushed through to get away from the dogs; it really does seem like it's been hours, even though in reality only seconds have passed. She notches another arrow and shoots another dog, backing far into the Cornucopia, scrambling over crates and using them as cover.

The dogs don't seem concerned with Thresh anymore. Their sleek grey-furred bodies wriggle and bound over the supply boxes to get to her, clambering over the piles of weapons and finally Peeta's body, which she dragged inside. There are only two now; one is preparing to pounce from a tall box, which she shoots in the stomach, causing it to crash backwards. "Now where's the other one…" says Katniss quietly, looking around and moving forward cautiously.

A snarl sounds from beside her, and behind one of the crates she just moved past, a pair of jaws snap hungrily. "Clever girl…" Katniss says softly, swinging her bow to shoot it, but she's too late. The hound is on her like slime on a snake, biting and clawing at her. Katniss does her best to hold it back, but eventually it snaps its jaws on one of her hands, rendering it unusable. Now trying to fight back with one hand, Katniss is aware of the inevitable—even if Thresh were nearby, he promised he'd only save her that once from Clove. "Prim… forgive me," she whispers as she feels the beast's hot breath on her face. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream as its jaws clamp around her neck, and she begins to feel herself go limp.

Slowly she begins to fade from existence, but as she's dying she hears, "Fire girl! Shit!" her eyes blink rapidly and she feels the beast's jaws get removed from her throat, and see it lifted up into the air and thrown onto a pile of weapons. Thresh is kneeling over her, cradling her head. "C'mon, Fire girl. Don't die. You promised Rue."

"S-sorry…" Katniss utters before her eyes close forever. The camera focuses in on Thresh's face; his dark face twists into a look of fury.

Trumpets blare out from all sides; the voice of Claudius Templesmith calls out, "We have a winner! Thresh Okeniyi of District 11!"

As the girl from District 12's blood spills freely from the open wound on her neck, pooling in the dirt and grass, Thresh's fists clench and he bears his teeth. An innocent twelve year old had been killed, and Thresh couldn't help her… he helped the little girl's ally once, but it wasn't enough; she died… and there was no one he could kill to avenge her, nothing he could do…

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><p>"That concludes <em>Panem: A History—From the Decades of Driving Snow to the Days of Flowing Ale<em>." says an announcer whose voice sounds oddly like… Morgan Freeman?

"FINALLY!" Ivre says, jumping up from his couch. "Now I can get something to drink."

"_Volume one. Of fourteen._"

"SHIT!"

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><p><strong>So this is the first in a series of somewhat humourous (at least I think they are) filler episodes explaining the past thirteen years in Panem, starting this episode with the 74<strong>**th**** Hunger Games, that will come out periodically from time to time, mainly to make sure that people see this. Also, I'd like to thank rdfalcon560 and SpaceAgeDino for expressing enough interest to read and review (and follow, thank you guys so much!)—I really loved SpaceAgeDino's review because it's honestly one of the most descriptive reviews I've gotten in a while, so thank you so much—and in response to your "first person" thought, I did it in third person because I didn't feel that first would be necessary, at least not until we get into the real stuff. As for the "Battlestar Galactica" part, it was just a drunken president trying to say "Battle Royale" XD**

**Anyway, I want you all to know that until July 18****th****, at about 1 am, the District 1 girl is officially reserved. Like I said, once you reserve a tribute, you have exactly one week to do the application before you lose them; all reserves must be requested through PM, but I will accept applications either way. Please apply, I really do want to go through with this one, and see you all later!**

**~Chase**


	3. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 2

**Hey guys, nothing much to say here. I'm leaving a tribute list at the end of the chapter, because a few spots are starting to get filled. I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Anyway, just read on!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: No matter how much I disagree with what Suzanne Collins has done with The Hunger Games series, I will never own it. End of story.<strong>

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><p><strong>August 21<strong>**st****, 21:45 – The Capitol**

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you your victor of the Seventy-fifth Annual Hunger Games, Finnick Odair!"

"Wha—we're under attack! Save the whiskey!" slurs Alexandre Ivre, rolling off the couch. "Muh…? What the… oh, still here." he mutters as his eyes adjust to his now dark living room; looking at his television screen, he sees the handsome face of one of the last Victors of District Four (in the twelve years that passed after the Seventy-fifth Games, there have only been two—Tanim Neptune in the Eighty-second and Moss Darya in the Eighty-fifth). He didn't remember much of those Games, except that Haymitch Abernathy of Twelve, Finnick Odair and Brutus Marullus of District Two were the final three; Brutus stabbed Haymitch in the back while the latter and Finnick were preparing to duel, and then Finnick speared Brutus with his trident; Ivre wasn't president then, so of course he was drunk 99% of the time (he had finally stopped drinking after three straight days when the final battle occurred) and missed most of the Games.

Fumbling around for the remote, the president finally finds it under the couch (where else does it ever go?) and stands up, staggering slightly; falling back on the couch, he presses the fast-forward button on the remote. After some boring-looking stuff about how significant the Seventy-fifth Games were (at least, that's probably what it was), Ivre stopped right at the beginning of the Seventy-sixth Games.

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><p>The tributes are positioned in a circle around a pile of supplies; there is no real Cornucopia this time around. The camera zooms outward to get a bigger view of the area; the pedestals for the tributes sit on a decent-sized plain of grass, with six sandbars extending into a massive sea; the ridges are roughly a mile or so long each and connect to islands about the size of a city, each covered in dense forests. There is nowhere for the tributes to go but there, really.<p>

"Ten… nine… eight…" an uncaring robotic voice drones out; several tributes drop into a stance to prepare to run. "Seven… six… five…"

Focusing in on a girl with long white hair and fair skin, the countdown continues; "Four… three… two…" The girl is wearing a black jacket, like all the others, and matching black pants and boots. Around her neck is a necklace with a raindrop pendant on it; her eyes are brown like tree bark; this is the female tribute from District Eight—Bernadette; no last name for her was ever found in the orphanage's records. She stands resolutely still, her eyes fixed on the island directly across from her; a large tower extends up from its overgrown depths—she's sure there has to be something there.

"One." A gong sounds out, and the tributes take off in a dead sprint; the Career tributes from One, Two and Four are the first to reach the pile of supplies—the blonde girl from District One grabs the hood of Bernadette's District partner and drags him to the ground, slitting his throat with her curved poniard. She smirks as his blood spurts out; her partner, a tall boy with brown hair by the name of Blaise is currently fighting with a large boy from Twelve over a spear.

Anton from District Two, a short, though bulky boy of fourteen is battling Linus from District Six with his bare fists; Linus is much taller than Anton, though of a much thinner build—a strong kick to the ribs from Anton knocks Linus to the ground and gives the Career boy the upper hand; grabbing a small axe and kneeling over Linus (though not pinning his arms to the ground) he brings it high over his head and swings it in a downward arc, slicing into… grass. Linus moved his head to the side and grasped a small rock; his longer arms became his advantage, because he uses them to slam the rock into the short boy's temple, pushing him off of him. He slams the rock into Anton's head several more times, causing many bloody wounds. Anton's partner, a tall, willowy blonde by the name of Diana sees this as she's pulling a throwing knife from the pile; she throws it in a straight line at the boy from Six, and it sticks into his back like a nail.

Linus falls face-first to the ground in pain, right onto the blade of the axe he stole from Anton; it cuts into his chest painfully. Diana stalks over to Linus and forces the knife in farther, twisting it with a cruel smirk; "Do you enjoy pain, Six? I hope so, because it's the last thing you'll know," says Diana fiercely. She draws the knife back from his wound and moves away from his body—she has better people to kill. Looking back around, she sees that Blaise has slain the boy from Twelve; the two from Four, Crest and Cove, killed Linus's District partner and then the two from Three.

You may be wondering what has happened to Bernadette; simple: she ran. Right through the Cornucopia; she grabbed a small pack and a knife and got the hell out of there. Immediately she dashed for the tower, heading into the dense copse of leaves. As for the other tributes… the boy and girl from Eleven, Zale and Jensa, who had already agreed to an alliance, ran to the Cornucopia where Zale, who was quite large and could easily be seen as a threat (much like Thresh in the Seventy-fourth Games), briefly fought with Tyker from District Seven over a large backpack… although Tyker was at a huge disadvantage (Zale had previously found and hidden a dagger in the right sleeve of his jacket); one right-hook from Zale had his face cut and bleeding—another right across the neck had his throat slit. Tyker fell limply to the ground, bleeding out over a black supply crate. Taking the large backpack, Zale sprinted to where his ally was hidden—she had taken a small knife, a bottle of water and a sleeping bag—and grabbed her hand. The two ran off across a sandbar onto an island that had a surrounding perimeter of thick trees, dodging under several branches before coming into a clearing with a small pond—and possibly a few sources of food.

Kirlinn and Cassie from Five had been among the first to make it to the pile of supplies—they were also among the first to die. Blaise and Shimmer (the boy and girl from One) had been on them like vultures to a corpse, cutting them down mercilessly. Devin of Ten had disappeared into a forest island behind him, not taking anything from the Cornucopia. His partner, Alainn, thought it would be a good idea to swim to one of the island; problem was, she couldn't swim worth a crap. As soon as the brown-haired girl jumped into the water, she practically sank like a rock.

Brisbin and Karla of District Nine were the next prey of Crest and Cove; Crest used his sword to cut through Brisbin like butter—and Cove slew Karla with a well-placed needle right in the jugular. The two died as they lived—together. As for Tyker's District partner, Phoebe… she ran away—to the same island that Bernadette had fled to.

Finally, all the Career tributes were at the Cornucopia island, looking over their bounty—and the body count. It was late afternoon now, perhaps about five or six, and there were still several crates to inspect. Cove and Crest had taken guard duty while the rest surveyed the supplies, and also the two doubled as the casualty counters.

And then the Gamemakers begin the cannonfire—the final send-off to the fallen. One, two, three… Crest and Cove are counting and nodding; four, five, six… all the way up to fourteen. Crest and Cove exchange a look—they have each counted twelve. Walking over to the other Careers, the twins ask simultaneously, "Did any of you see two other bodies? We've only counted twelve, and there were fourteen shots."

Blaise shrugs—he truly is of few words. Shimmer shakes her head and Diana thinks for a moment—"I saw the girl from District Ten go into the water. She's probably dead now, and if she's not, she will be before long." Diana gives a thoughtful look, then shrugs; "Either way, let's get the bodies piled up. We're going to need some territory if we ever need to fight. Besides… if the others have less room, that means we've got a bit of a strangle hold on them, yes?"

"Diana, you are a genius," says Shimmer with a grin; Blaise nods, and Crest and Cove just grin. They proceed to stack up the bodies so the Gamemakers can pick them up later; a hiss of hydraulics takes Crest's focus; the boy from District Four looks over toward the ocean, and a mechanical pedestal has risen into the air; he sees a long mane of brown hair hanging over the sides, as well as a stump of an arm, dripping blood… then a large red monster, one that looks much like a crab, with a spiky red shell that looks as hard as diamond, and incredibly deadly-looking pincers, scuttles up onto a sandbar. Two more appear on opposite stretches of land, and they begin to make their way toward the Cornucopia. Right as the creatures get within a spear's throw of the Careers, the picture freezes.

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><p>"I'll finish that when I'm drunk," says Ivre quickly. "Not much of a stomach for gore when I'm sober." With that, he stands up and walks out of the living room, toward a small kitchenette that is adjoined to his presidential bedroom, leaving the paused movie with an ending that is probably obvious…<p>

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><p><strong>Well, there you have it y'all. This chapter was, as the past chapter also was, a filler. Basically I'm trying to keep this story where people can see it, so I can get more tributes in. Thanks for reading!<strong>

**~Chase**

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><p><strong>Tribute list – So far<strong>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Reserved – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open! _

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Open!_

* * *

><p><strong>As you can see, there are quite a bit of spots still open, so make your tributes! Don't cost nothing. Remember, requests MUST be through PM's, and they MUST be in within a week of the request. Thanks!<strong>

**~Chase… again**


	4. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 3

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here. Not very much to say—just that this chapter is the conclusion for the Seventy-sixth Games. As always, ****I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, these are really just meant to be light-hearted fillers, so characters WILL be doing some stupid stuff (usually it'll just be our favourite drunken president, but sometimes others). Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay. No matter how big of a mistake Suzanne Collins made with it, it will never be mine, no one else's but hers.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>August 21<strong>**st****, 22:40 – The Capitol**

"WOO~ let's watch some more of this shit!" cries Alexandre Ivre, stumbling out of the kitchenette and back onto the couch; "Got my two best friends right here~ Jack~" he says, waving a brown bottle of Jack Daniels, "and… uh… Yakov!" he finally adds, swinging around a clear bottle of Smirnoff vodka. He brings the Smirnoff to his mouth and takes a long swig before putting it onto one of the end tables, then doing the same with the Jack Daniels. He picks up the television remote and presses play, grinning wickedly at the giant red crab creatures scuttling their way toward the Career pack…

* * *

><p>"This isn't looking good…" Crest says somewhat worriedly; "their pincers look razor-sharp…"<p>

"And that armour looks as hard as diamond…" finishes Cove, gripping her trident tightly.

"I don't give a shit! I'll beat these things down no problem," snarls Blaise of District One; he grabs a large hammer and dashes off toward the nearest one. "DIIIIIIIIIEEEEE…" he yells out, swinging the hammer fiercely, but his cry is cut short; one of the crab's great claws clamps around him like a vise grip, cutting him in half. His top half slides from his lower portion, falling to the ground in a bloody mess, a look of shock eternally frozen on his face. "D-damn…" he whispers shortly before a cannon fires.

"It killed Blaise…" Cove utters, her eyes widening in fear.

"…Without hesitation…" says Crest quietly; the fourteen year old looks at his twin protectively. Shaking his head, he narrows his green eyes at the crab creatures. "You three," he says, "get out of here. I'll hold these three off."

"W-what?!" Cove exclaims. "No! I'm not leaving you behind, brother!" she says harshly.

"GO!" shouts Crest.

Meanwhile, Diana looks at the two weirdly. "Uh… you guys DO know that these things are slow enough that we can ALL run away, right?" she deadpans, shaking her head at the twins.

"I know," says Crest.

"Then let's go."

"I don't want to." (President Ivre laughs loudly at this, spitting out a bit of his whiskey.)

"What? Why not?" says Cove. "We can get away from them—they won't get us!"

"But what if they follow? Perhaps they're smart enough to tail us." Crest says mysteriously. "Besides, I think I can do this." He adds, focusing on a specific spot on the crab's body. Right under one of its arms is an area of soft, exposed flesh. "I've found a chink in the armour—if I can get to it, we'll have crab meat for days."

The artificial sun that shone down on the arena is beginning to set, adding a dramatic flair to Crest's declaration. The false moon and stars are beginning to shine in the domed sky; the crabs seem to move faster… perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.

(In reality, the Capitol had edited footage for the Seventy-sixth Games for time, so more tributes died and much quicker—in the actual Games, Blaise, Anton and Linus were still alive—the latter two would be until the day after, and then Blaise would survive for three more days—however, Ivre had no idea about that, since he was drunk throughout that whole Games. What else would he do—he had just become good friends with Mr. Daniels!)

Shimmer looks at the other two girls, then at the fourteen-year-old boy preparing to face almost certain death, the one who had told them to flee just seconds earlier… "Screw this!" she says, grabbing a big backpack and sheathing her double daggers; "I'm out of here—your brother's right, Cove. He can handle this. If not—well, he'll still stall them for a little bit." She goes off toward a densely forested island—right next to the one with the tower. Diana follows her, shooting one last weird glance at Crest.

"Well, I'm staying." Cove says forcefully.

"No you aren't, Cove. You saw what that did to Blaise (thank you GreenApple312 for this correction!). I'm not letting it do it to you!" Crest growls back. The two begin an argument ("Shut up and run, you damned fools!" yells Ivre drunkenly) and become quite immersed—neither of the two notice when a claw takes the life of Cove, separating her head from her body. The cannon fires quickly. Turning a fierce glare on the crab monster, Crest takes his spear and stabs it into the exposed area of flesh—the crab gives a shrill scream of pain and stumbles on its small, skinny legs for several feet before crashing to the ground on top of Cove's body ("HAHAHA TAKE THAT YOU STUPID CRAB!" slurs Ivre).

Sneering at the other crab who is rapidly approaching at him, Crest yells out something—probably a war cry—and lunges at the mutt, dodging its rapid claw jab, then rolling under one of its swings. "This is a lot easier than I thought," says Crest, jamming his spear into the opening in its armour. He smirks as the red creature does the same as the one before it, crashing down and causing the grassy land to shake. "…But there were three of them…" Crest says cautiously, whirling around swiftly; he sees nothing, just the waves lapping at the sandbars. "Ah well… maybe it's gone now. Perhaps it retreated." He shrugs—he'd find the girls later. Walking back over to the supply area, he rolls out a sleeping bag and lays back on it—he really doesn't care if anyone came; his sister, his whole reason for volunteering, is dead. He has nothing more to live for.

The Capitol's anthem began to play, and he looks up into the dark sky, and the seal of Panem appears—in black and white, the portraits of the fallen tributes begin to show. First is the handsome face of Blaise, who had died mere minutes before, followed by the upper half of Anton's head—Crest chuckles lightly at this (while of course Ivre laughs hysterically) and whispers, "He was really short." The faces of the boy and girl from District Three appear next—Crest nodded when the boy's face showed first; he was his kill. Crest bowed his head in both respect and sadness when Cove's face appears; he says softly, "I'm sorry, little sister… I'm a failure…"

The two tributes from District Five appear next—he remembers Blaise and Shimmer killing them. Linus and the girl from Six show next, the latter being killed by Cove. The scarred face of Tyker of District Seven appears after them; Crest is unaware of who killed him or how, necessarily, but he saw his face-down body when he and Cove were counting the fatalities. The boy from District Eight is the next one—Shimmer had cut his throat until his blood splayed across her jacket. Brisbin and Karla, the lovers from District Nine had been killed by him personally, so it is no shock when he sees their faces. He knew Alainn of Ten was dead—not sure if she had been killed by the crabs or if she had simply drowned, but he knows she is dead; however he is shocked when her partner, Devin shows up in the sky—he had scored a ten in the training sessions, and he was among the favourites to win. Devin from Twelve is the final tribute to appear—Blaise speared him in the very beginning.

Laughing bitterly, Crest closes his eyes and falls asleep; across the arena, the tributes are beginning to sleep—Shimmer and Diana are sleeping in turns, one keeping watch and waking the other after a few hours; Zale and Jensa are doing the same. Bernadette of Eight is wide awake—after taking shelter at the top of the large tower, she thought she heard movement downstairs and refuses to go to sleep; Phoebe from Seven—the one who was causing the sound of movement—heard something on the floor above her ("IT'S BERNADETTE, YOU MORON!" shouts Ivre clumsily, struggling to say Bernadette) and also refuses to sleep. As for Cleo of Twelve…

…Cleo of District Twelve is in between a rock and a hard place, literally. She had fled to an island that had a small cliff with a waterfall, sure that she could find water and food easily. Believe me, she was in over her head when she went in; she hadn't gotten anything from the Cornucopia, but her first priority was water; the fifteen-year old was drinking water out of the pond formed by the waterfall when a growl was heard by her. Turning her head she saw five pairs of red eyes staring at her from the bushes… out leapt a pack of fierce wolves with furry grey bodies, much like those in the Seventy-fourth Games. She took off in a dead sprint, the pack behind her (though not running as quickly as her—since they were under the control of the Gamemakers, they weren't going to kill her without giving a good chase), tearing through the forested island (and running around in circles most of the time).

Finally her luck has ran out—they managed to corner her against the cliff, the sheer, vine covered cliff… wait a minute… "Vines," breathes Cleo, her hand brushing the long green tendrils. Quickly she grasps the vines, pulling herself up slowly. The wolves jump at her, but they are unable to reach her. As she pulls herself to the top of the cliff, she smirks down at them. "How about them apples?" she calls down… then there's a bit of hissing behind her. A giant snake is slithering her way. "Shiiiiit…" she curses as it rears its ugly head back. The camera zooms back to the sleeping form of Crest as a cannon fires and his eyes pop open.

* * *

><p>"C'mon Jack, don't be like thaaaat~" slurs Ivre, talking to the bottle of Jack Daniels, "snakes are bad, but nobody deserves that fate! You know they had to actually cut her body out of the snake? That's why I made Danie-Dane promise he wouldn't use any snakes ever again." He says, referring to his best friend, the Head Gamemaker himself Dane Eclater, who shares his hatred of snakes.<p>

* * *

><p>The days droned on without much happening—aside from an alliance forming between Phoebe and Bernadette—the former of the two is killed a day afterward, though, by a fall from the tower that to this day people say was caused by Bernadette. No footage was ever shown that proved otherwise (though many speculate that the Capitol hid any of it). Diana and Shimmer later found Zale and Jensa's island, never bothering to regroup with Crest. A fierce standoff led to the bodies of Diana and Shimmer floating in the water and Zale bleeding out in Jensa's arms, the latter professing her love for him ("This part always makes me tear up," says Ivre to his bottle of vodka).<p>

On the fifth day of the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games (as previously stated, this version is edited—the Games lasted barely three days longer, however, and they consisted of the tributes merely hiding from each other, except for Crest who was hunting), Jensa and Crest meet each other in the starting area—Jensa uses Zale's spear, which is admittedly a bit heavy for her to combat Crest's; the boy from District Four has no trouble dispatching the girl from Eleven—his training and overall strength is able to defeat her lack of experience and power, and he impales her with the spear and sticks it into the soft, grassy ground with her corpse still on it, limbs falling limply beside her ("Pitiful. Poor, heartbroken girl," says Ivre, vodka dripping from his mouth). "I've won this!" Crest declares. "Where the hell are my trumpets?"

"Try behind you." says the uncaring voice of Bernadette as she stalks toward him, a dagger in hand. Crest turns around just in time to have the blade stab right into his stomach, as she slices through and brings it across. "You know, my older brother was killed by a boy from Four. I'll consider this his revenge." She withdraws the dagger and pushes him to the ground, kneeling on his arms and pinning his down, stabbing him repeatedly until his cannon fires.

"AAAAAAAND THIS IS WHY YOU NEVER FIGHT A REVENGE-DRIVEN CHILD~" sing-songs Ivre happily. "I mean, that's the only reason I've ever liked Sasuke Uchihaaaaaaa~ well… when you're drunk enough he DOES look like a pretty hot girl…" he says, finishing his vodka. "What do you think, Jack?" he asks the bottle. When he gets no response, he says, "Fine, be that way. I'll just drink all of your bodily fluids." And with that, he drains the bottle, pauses the movie and heads for more whiskey.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you have it folks! The conclusion of the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games. Next up will be the Seventy-seventh, which was at the very start of President Ivre's career—even though he doesn't remember a thing! Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!<strong>

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><strong>Tribute list – So far<strong>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Reserved – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Open!_


	5. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 4

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here; nothing much to say really, except that this one was written on the fly, so it may be more fast-paced and random—just remember that these filler chapters are all mostly light-hearted and attempts at humour. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay. No matter how big of a mistake Suzanne Collins made with it, it will never be mine, no one else's but hers.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>August 22<strong>**nd****, 9:00 – The Capitol**

"Mm… what time is it…" mutters President Ivre, rolling over. He lies on his back on the black granite floor of his little kitchenette, a half-empty bottle of vodka on his counter by the sink and then a bottle of Jack Daniels that has completely spilt out lies beside him, practically forming a pool. The man is now shirtless, albeit a long black sock is tied around his head like a headband—he tilts his head at the spilt whiskey, the shaggy brown hair shaking wildly; his pale eyes stare at the pool, trying to decide how to deal with it…

…and finally he decides to start lapping it up like a dehydrated dog. Panting included. "I'm so sorry, Jack! I don't know what the hell I did last night, but I'm sorry!" Ivre sobs, sitting up and rocking the bottle back and forth comically. "I promise I'll make it right…" he whispers, taking the bottle over to a small silver cylinder, no wider than a dinner plate; a keypad with several other flashing buttons sits on its solid top. Ivre presses a big blue button, and a solid line halves the top of the device and the two parts slowly slide apart, revealing a swirling pit of darkness (literally swirling, as if there were thousands… or more likely dozens of tiny little saw blades buzzing around in there); "Goodbye, dear friend… I knew thee well," says Ivre, still obviously rather drunk (despite sleeping for ten hours—it's really a miracle, some of the things the Capitol can do). He holds the bottle over the can and drops it in there, singing a hymn in something similar to Old Norse—don't ask how he learned it, this is the first anyone's known of something like this. The can lid slides back in place as the sounds of smashing are heard inside; "…Can't believe I doomed him to that fate."

He mopes his way back to the counter and drains the vodka, doing a similar ritual for throwing it away. Stumbling over to the fridge, he opens it to realize that he's down to his last bottle of Jack Daniels. "OOOOH SHIT! NO! THIS IS NOT GOOD!" he practically screams, slapping himself in the face several times. He falls to his knees and sobs hysterically; he pulls his communications device—a small red rectangular pad—out from his underwear (don't ask how it got there—I'd rather not talk about it… *shivers*) and presses a button; his secretary's intern answers; "Hello?"

"PARKER! GET ME MORE JACK!" he shouts, hanging up. Now he resumes his sobbing.

* * *

><p>"Thanks Parker! Come back in a couple days and we'll play some Halo!" Ivre calls out to the intern.<p>

"It's Partridge, sir," the intern calls back, walking out the front door.

"Well… now the gang's all here," Ivre says with a giggle, hugging five bottles of Jack to him. "Let's get back to the moooovieeee~"

Stumbling over to his couch, he sets each bottle gingerly on an end table, takes the remote and presses play; the title now appears: _The Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games – Brewing of Ale_.

"Hah, I remember these—this was my first year!" says Ivre happily.

* * *

><p>As the tributes are raised up on their pedestals, the first thing that stands out is blinding white—snow. The sun shines brightly, almost blindingly against it—the Cornucopia is made of a silvery metal this time, adding more to the harsh light aspect; although the items that spill out of it are worth braving it. A ring of mountain peaks and sheer drops line the starting area—it's roughly one hundred metres between the tributes and the Cornucopia on all sides, then fifty metres to the peaks and drop-offs—and there are several steep slopes with thick copses of trees dotted throughout the place.<p>

The tributes appear in this order—tall and stoic Marcus, male tribute of District Two; lazy and uncaring Alan of District Ten; District One's Glamour, a bottomless pit of a boy; seductive and treacherous Glisten, also of District One; fierce and crazy Portia from District Two; sly Thea of District Three; arrogant and commanding Breck of District Four; and meek and softspoken Maia of Four. Starving and wild-eyed Robin, the female from District Twelve; her partner, the undeniably unremarkable Destin; strong Harley and short Cypress, male and female of District Eleven, respectively; scheming Holden of District Seven, and shifty Summer of District Five. Cautious Shawn, male of Three and his ally, the equally wary female from Seven, Rebecca; generous Cecilia from Eight and the selfish James of Nine. Rich, merchant girl Kay from Nine and farm girl Lucky of Ten; District Eight's prankster male, Joseph and genius Seth of District Five; then finally the uninteresting duo from Six, Brian and Megan. "TRIBUUUUUTES~" slurs Ivre's drunken voice, rolling over the area and bouncing off the mountains ("Oh yeah! I forgot I did this in my first year!" says Ivre, giggling). "START! YOUR! ENGIIIIINESSSSS~~"

The gong sounds out, and most of the tributes are off and running; by most, I mean everyone except Alan; he's standing in place, seemingly asleep. He hears Lucky yell out to him, "Yo! Alan!" and he snaps out of his apparent stupor, and runs off toward the Cornucopia—right onto the outstretched spear of Marcus. His body falls down in a heap, with Joseph of Eight being unceremoniously thrown down on top of it; that prankster had messed with the wrong tribute—Breck drives his trident into his throat several times, not satisfied until the fifteen-year-old's blood splatters across his face. "That'll teach you to tease a man with a fish taco." Breck snarls, spitting on Joseph's body. Holden of Seven is battling Destin of Twelve for a backpack, the two completely barehanded—Holden delivers a hard right punch to the side of Destin's face, but that moment gives the boy from District Twelve the opportunity to snatch away the backpack and take off in a dead sprint toward one of the peaks; Holden snarls and picks up a hatchet, tossing it hard at the boy—it slices into his back and knocks him to the ground.

Shawn and Rebecca, of Districts Three and Seven, respectively, took off down one of the slopes, their feet crunching beneath the snow; they carefully make their way down, toward a thicket of trees, being sure of where they stepped—Rebecca steps in Shawn's footprints, so as not to make more tracks. Back at the Cornucopia, the tributes are fighting tooth-and-nail ("YES! Fight, monkeys! I have everything and you have nothing~" giggles Ivre); and it really seems as if the Careers will, once again, take over.

The casualties so far have been Alan of Ten and Joseph of Eight; Destin of Twelve; Thea and Robin were both killed by Glamour's scythe—for a thirteen-year-old, he was undeniably strong; Maia had had her neck snapped by a staff-wielding Harley when she tried to stab him in the back. James had tackled Cecilia right off of the start, and the two tumbled off of a cliff and fell to their deaths ("Silly brawlers, cliffs are for goats!" says Ivre, having no real idea of what he's talking about). Summer and Megan were decapitated by Glisten, who later had her skull crushed by Harley. Breck almost (note: ALMOST) killed Lucky by slicing at her stomach with a sickle, though she managed to drag herself away (leaving a blood trail, however); that was it when the fighting dispersed.

Harley flees the Cornucopia after killing Glisten, carrying a long metal staff with two backpacks hanging by their straps; he treks down the mountain with relative ease, having been used to downhill movement in the fields. He has no idea what has happened to Cypress, nor does he particularly care; he saw her make her way up a peak and disappear over it, possibly onto a whole other mountain range. Brian of District Six headed her way as well… but Harley can't afford to think on that at the moment. All he cares about is making his way to safety—all the way to a small copse of woods surrounding a pond. He makes his camp there, putting down his packs and rummaging through them—but keeping on full alert at all times. However, he can't see that down in the placid water, a pair of ruby eyes are leering at him from the depths… the camera zooms in particularly on this ("OOOOH SHIT! HE'S GONNA DIE~" giggles Ivre).

Brian of Six is lost; there's nothing else to describe his situation—he passed over two mountain peaks in a period of thirty minutes, something that he never would've been able to do without having been on the run so much in his life—he silently thanks whatever deity there is for his excellence in theft. He had run into a forest for cover, sure he had lost anyone who may have followed him—but he went in too far, chasing a squirrel. But he has no idea that from the darkness between the trees, he's being stalked—not by a mutt, but by a tribute: Cypress, the eighteen-year-old female from District Eleven. Perhaps she poses no threat—but perhaps she does.

Lucky has collapsed halfway down the mountain; her arm strength has given out. She managed to escape the merciless Careers, but… perhaps a death at their hands would've been better than this; she knows she will die. "…no… I can't believe… I'm… dying here…" she tries to crawl forward, her strawberry-blonde hair matted with blood. "I… can't…" she starts again, but she lays her head in the snow, and fades away.

Seth, the genius from District Five, is very far away when the cannons begin to fire; he had grabbed a knife and a small bottle of water from the Cornucopia and then ran as if all hell were on his heels. He tore across a small ridge that connected two peaks, then went around that peak and clambered down it. Finally he took shelter in a cave that couldn't be seen unless stared at directly; he found a sleeping bear in there, so quietly he slit its throat and skinned it, using its fur for warmth and butchering part of it for meat—his uncle would often go out to hunt and taught him the basics of cleaning prey… before he was caught by Peacekeepers and killed.

One, two, three, four, five… "Yes, there's five…" he says quietly; six, seven, eight… nothing to say there; nine, ten, eleven. "So eleven are dead…" Then comes another cannon. "Okay… twelve. Twelve tributes are dead." He quietly makes a few calculations in his head, drawing the bearskin closer around him.

* * *

><p>Ivre pauses the movie and yawns slightly. He downs another whole bottle of whiskey, reaching for another. "I'm hungry." He says, his hand stopping midstretch. "I'll make Parker get me a pizza." He adds, pulling his comm device out from his underwear (again, don't ask).<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Okay guys, that's all for today! This chapter may be a little bit down in quality, but I had to write this on the run—heading down to Texas for a few days to help out my mom and dad; I'll still be writing, but I just had to get this one done quickly so that I could get packed and everything. <strong>**Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!**

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><strong>Tribute list – So far<strong>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Open!_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Reserved – Danny Takuto_


	6. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 5

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here, and I'm uploading this from my parents' right now. Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the stuff that goes along with it. No matter how much I want to, no matter how much I despise what Suzanne Collins has done with the series, it all belongs to her—it will <strong>_**never**_** belong to me.**

* * *

><p><strong>August 22<strong>**nd****, 11:00 – The Capitol**

"Thanks again Parker~" slurs Ivre, setting the large pizza box beside him on the couch and opening it up; steam rises off of the tasty-looking pepperoni and banana pizza (a favourite for drunks like the president).

"…it's Partridge…" sighs the dogged intern, leaving the mansion.

"Nobody cares, Padilla!" says the president in a garbled shout, his mouth full of pizza. He picks up the remote and presses play once more, crossing his legs and staring intently at the screen. He takes a sip of whiskey—just a sip, mind you. He doesn't want to drown out the taste of his pizza.

* * *

><p>Kay of District Nine is… let's say… in a tough spot. Well, not a spot, per say—more like a tough ledge.<p>

And by tough ledge, of course it's a small, thin ledge. After she fled the Cornucopia with a bottle of water (she would've had a backpack as well, but she lost it in a scuffle with Lucky from District Ten, who died later on) she made her way round a mountain; after a minute of searching, she saw something she is currently wishing she hadn't—a hunting shack; a rundown one, but cover and possible supplies nonetheless. The cabin, probably just one or maybe two rooms, is made of a light-coloured wood, probably birch, though it was so bright that it blends well with the surrounding snow; it is built into a little area in between two sides of a mountain; the only downside: she needs to scale a narrow ledge against a sheer cliff face to get there.

So of course, being the rich girl she is, she believes she can make it—she probably can't, though… what? Everyone else is thinking it—especially her parents. She's a third of the way across, but the ledge seems to be getting narrower as she goes on; she even says it aloud, "This ledge… it seems like it's getting even thinner with every step I take…!" (to which Ivre replies, "That's because it is!" as he shovels down another slice of pizza, laughing maniacally) "This might not have been the best idea…"

She shimmies further along the rocky shelf, keeping the water bottle in her pocket. "I wonder how far the drop would be…?" ("Too far, yo!" says Ivre, slurping down half a bottle of Jack) she asks curiously, moving a hand to her ponytail-styled hair, the colour of chestnuts, she pulls out the hairpin and drops it over the edge, waiting to hear the _plink!_

…

…

"Shit." She says after several minutes of no plink; this is _definitely_ not good. And… that ground is looking even further away every second; she forces her head away from it, instead keeping her silvery eyes locked on the grey cliff face. She slowly pushes herself along, careful at every step. Finally, her foot touches snow; she breathes a sigh of relief; she pulls the other one along with her, and goes to move her left one again, but discovers that she can't move it. It's as if it's… "Frozen…" she sighs; she's going to be there for a while.

CLANK! …Or not. She hears the mechanical sound and the seed of fear in her heart blossoms into a fully grown poisonous flower of terror; the ledge is beginning to slide slowly into the cliff. It's moving quite gradually, however, but she's overreacting—she's already screaming. ("Lift your leg, stupid!" yells Ivre) She fears that she'll die—she's too caught up in fear to try any life-preserving actions, despite how much everyone back home is screaming at her.

Meanwhile, Cypress of Eleven is currently enjoying watching her prey struggle; her lithe body and knowledge of plants has given her enough food to last her for a few days, and she melts the snow for water. However, Brian of Six—the one she has been stalking—has been unable to find food nor water; most of the animals have been too fast or too well camouflaged, and he doesn't think that the snow will provide enough water. Cypress, were she not preparing to kill him, would say otherwise—of course, in Eleven, there is more of a need to ration than in Six. Moving through their forest, Brian walks slowly and quietly, so as not to make much noise. The female tribute from Eleven decides she'll let him live, for now; this is rather enjoyable.

Back at the Cornucopia, the Careers are beginning to take inventory on their spoils. Tossing the thirteen-year-old a scythe, Breck of Four says to Glamour, the male from One, "Kid. Check if there's anyone around. He has assigned Portia, the crazy girl from District Two, to check on the bodies—despite being completely insane, the fifteen-year-old does have a photographic memory. As for Breck and Marcus, the undisputed leaders of the Careers, they are currently going through the supply crates and weapons they have gained from the Cornucopia.

The black-haired girl from Two, the only girl left in the group, is currently lining up the corpses in order, smallest to largest. As soon as she gets them all in order, she begins to put names to them all—Maia of Four; perhaps it's rather pitiful that she couldn't remember her own ally, but oh well; Robin, the girl from Twelve—she didn't know much about her; Thea and the headless Megan are the same size, so they were grouped together—Thea had been killed by Glamour and Megan was decapitated by Glisten, her head was currently resting beside a supply crate; normally tall Summer is an inch shorter than Glisten, the former having been killed by the latter and the latter having had her skull crushed by the boy from Eleven. Next comes Alan of Ten, the first death of the Games—he had been speared by Marcus; Joseph from Eight, who had been mutilated by Breck for having tampered with his fish taco. Finally comes the tallest—the one Portia is least thrilled to see: Destin from Twelve. She had fallen for the boy, and was going to attempt to get him into the group; they had bonded over the knife throwing station in the training centre, and had often talked on the roof of their building, which led to Destin stealing a kiss—he had successfully soothed the madness in her soul.

He marks the third person she cared about to have died in the Games—her older sister, her little brother, and now him…

Gathering up a backpack full of supplies and a sleeve of knives, she decides she's done. She knows who killed him too—Holden of Seven, the only person to survive the Bloodbath who uses axes. "He's a dead man," she snarls, preparing to track him. Prior to the start of the Games, she had broken into the stylists' records and taken note of the tributes' shoe sizes—she knows how big his feet were, and she can track him once she finds them.

But there is no doubt: Holden is going to die.

Back with Kay, the ledge is finally about to slip from under her feet—and she is still too consumed in fear to do anything. Eventually it draws in and she can no longer keep balance—she falls painfully out of her shoe and topples over the edge, falling… falling… then hard ground, and darkness.

The sound of a cannon snaps Glamour out of his daze; the bulky thirteen-year-old from District One has been listlessly staring at a small grove of trees down at the bottom of the mountain, as if there's something he should know about it… but never mind. He needs to know who died—and if they were close. Otherwise, it isn't much to his concern. Circling around the area belonging to the Careers one last time, he finds the body of the redheaded girl from Ten; slinging her small body over his shoulder, he prepares to head back… but then he sees Portia, with a bag of supplies and weapons.

"Portia? Where are you going?" he asks—she was the last person in the group remotely close to his age, and the last one he truly trusts.

"Oh, Glamour. Well… I'm going hunting. Holden from Seven—he's going to die."

"…Breck and Marcus know about this?" he says cautiously.

"Yes," she lies. "And no, you can't come with me."

"Why not? I'd be of better use to you! They hardly need any help," protests the boy. "I-I'll fight you if I have to! I don't want to go back there."

She tilts her head. "Little mouse should run along. Little mouse is not safe among the wild cat." She says softly; she cares, at least somewhat, about the boy, just barely in his teens.

"Don't use those riddles with me, Portia. I'm coming with you whether you want to or not…!" he says.

"Go home, little mouse. You are better off with big dogs."

"…What the hell does that even mean?" he calls as she darts toward him; he blinks in anticipation but opens his eyes once more when he realizes she's behind him.

"It means… go back. You'll be safer with Marcus and Breck. You'd likely die if you followed me," she whispers in his ear, turning and walking away, down the mountain.

But Glamour isn't backing down so easy. He starts to run at her, swinging his scythe as he runs; he has dropped Lucky's body and is fully prepared to fight Portia—that's the Career mentality: if someone doesn't agree with you, fight them. Portia sighs softly—she knows he'd probably take her down if he tackled her, so she does the only thing she can—arches back her arm and throws one of her knives, catching him right in the throat. He falls mid run, the knife embedded in his jugular. He's going to bleed out within seconds.

"Maaan, I'm getting tired~" slurs Ivre drunkenly, despite it only being noon. He has scarfed down the pizza and three of his eight remaining bottles of Jack; laying back on the couch, using the pizza box as a pillow, he closes his eyes, but not pausing the movie.

The sun has finally gone down in the arena, and it's getting quite cold. Portia is long gone from the Careers; Glamour has bled out and died. His body is found by Breck, who is royally pissed about Portia's apparent desertion—he knows this was her knife as well; he pledges to kill her when the time comes—after returning to the top with Glamour's and Lucky's bodies, he actually stabs Marcus to death in a fit of rage. His plan is falling apart at the seams.

Right after the cannon fires, the sky comes alive with the sound of Panem's anthem, and then the seal of the Capitol. The fallen tributes appear next: Glamour, followed by Glisten; Marcus; Breck can't believe that three of the most powerful tributes in the Games have been killed in the first day… of course, he had killed Marcus himself. Thea from District Three—he's rather proud of Glamour for getting one of the first kills of the Games; Maia—Breck couldn't care less about her, she is… was… weak (if Harley hadn't killed her, there's a good chance he would've). Summer from Five, Megan from Six; Joseph and Cecilia from Eight; James and Kay from Nine; Alan and Lucky from Ten; and lastly Destin and Robin from Twelve. Breck mentally smirks—so that's why Portia is so upset—her boyfriend had been killed and she's out for revenge. Of course.

Perhaps he'll stay out of her way for now. After all, what was it the Victor from last year had said when she came through on her victory tour, gloating about when she killed two of his friends? Ah, yes, "Never fight a revenge-driven child."

And he's willing to take her advice—if not for his own safety, but for an easier victory; after all, if she kills more than just one person because she believes they may not have killed Destin, he'll have less competition. Breck likes the sound of that.

* * *

><p>"HAAAAAH!" screams Ivre, sitting straight up from his slumber. "Oh. Perhaps I should stop drinking so much before bed." He looks soberly at the screen… then bursts out laughing. "I crack myself up!" he says, wiping a tear from one of his eyes. "I dreamed that I was in some sort of fan fiction… or something. And I was breaking the fourth wall or something for telling the readers to submit tributes… whatever the hell that means." He shrugs. "Whatever. I'll just drink some more." He decides, pausing the movie.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Alright everybody, that's it for today—I've decided I'll break this Games up into three parts so that I can finish it off at my mom and dad's tomorrow. Turns out it was nothing big—my sister and niece had just left to go back to Calgary (which is just under eleven hours away from my house... for some weird reason, almost all of my family who is old enough has moved to Canada, except for my older brother) so mom wanted to have one of her children in the house again, despite having my little brother Damion (who is almost old enough to drive O.O Holy Montreal, I'm getting old) and she also didn't even invite my twin sister Lex down XD So I'm just gonna be eating some of my mom's cookies and playing N64 with my little brother and probably watching stuff with my dad. Then I'll probably eat ten-course meals because my mom doesn't believe that my girlfriend and Lex make enough food for me and all my other housemates… even though I make my own meals most of the time, but hey, whatcha gonna do? She's my mom, and I think all moms are like that. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!<strong>

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Open!_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Reserved – Danny Takuto_


	7. Alexandre Ivre's History of Panem Part 6

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here, and I'm uploading this from my parents' right now. Sorry for no update yesterday, my dad had some stuff he needed me to do for him. Also sorry if this chapter isn't quite as good as the others, I'm writing this on literally two hours of sleep. Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the stuff that goes along with it. No matter how much I want to, no matter how much I despise what Suzanne Collins has done with the series, it all belongs to her—it will <strong>_**never**_** belong to me.**

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><p><strong>August 22<strong>**nd****, 13:00 – The Capitol**

President Ivre is laying on his carpeted floor, stone-cold drunk, but awake; he is playing with two empty bottles of Jack, making various motions with them; "Chaaaarizzzaaaaarddd~ use FLAMETHROWAAA!" he giggles, throwing one of the bottles at the wall. "It was super-effective~ Pikastoise _fainteeeeeed_~" as the brown bottle shatters against the wall, he looks at it and says, "I'm bored. I'm going to watch some more of those movies."

He plops back on the couch and turns on the TV. "Time for more of my idiotic commentary~ yaaaaaay~~"

* * *

><p>Seth, male tribute of District Five, has been happily hunkered down in his cave for the three days since the Games have started; he has had no shortage of food because of the bear he killed, skinned and butchered—he has also been comfortably warm. He's been perfectly content to watch the tributes kill each other below; see, his cave wasn't necessarily <em>far<em> from the Cornucopia, just far above—so he's had a pretty good view of the fighting. After sleeping peacefully for eight hours, he has discovered that the Career tributes have all but disbanded—the pair from One are completely dead, the male from Two was killed by the male from Four, and the female from Four was killed in the Bloodbath; and then the female from Two left after doing a count of the bodies—there was a fierce expression on her face after sadness at seeing the boy from Twelve dead; Seth knows there was something between them, so she is likely after his killer. Breck from Four disappeared from the Cornucopia in the middle of the night, so Seth is a bit on his toes about that… although from this height, Seth would know if he were coming.

Looking down at the Cornucopia… perhaps this would be a good time to run down and see if he could scavenge anything. Yes, it'll only take a minute after all. Cautiously removing the bearskin, he becomes painfully aware of the biting cold of this altitude; he slowly walks out of his cave, allowing his eyes to adjust to the blinding snow. Looking around once more, he takes a slow, cautious run down to the practically bowl-shaped area that surrounds the Cornucopia; what luck—he sees a rather large backpack right out in the open. He starts to run for it…

"Wait a minute…" he mutters, looking at the placement of the bag—it's certainly a trap. But he decides to spring it; walking forward, he snatches at one of the straps of the bag, and he hears a voice from inside the Cornucopia yell, "SURPRISE!"

Breck, the male with curly red hair from District Four, leaps out of the inside of the horn with a trident held fast in hand; there's a wild look in his eyes. His skin is somewhat paler than it had before—he certainly wasn't stupid enough to light a fire, no matter what, and after noting how much had been taken from the Cornucopia on the first day, Seth decided that there hadn't been enough blankets—so Breck had to be freezing cold.

"Yes. Surprise for you!" Seth says, sidestepping the swing of the trident—it was rather slow and rigid compared to how it normally would be. He pulls the knife he got from the Cornucopia and drives it into Breck's stomach—the boy is moving undeniably slowly. A flower of blood blossoms in the boy's green jacket. He cuts the knife across, dragging it through Breck's stomach, opening it in a red crescent.

Breck looks down at the open wound, voice faltering slightly; he falls facedown into the snow, and a cannon fires shortly after. "Hn. Never thought a Career tribute would be killed so easily." Seth mocked slightly. Bending down to take the backpack, he discovered the several untouched treasures that lay deep inside the Cornucopia—"Jackpot," says Seth happily.

Meanwhile, Cypress has finally gotten bored of her prey; he has trekked through the woods for several days, hopelessly lost—when in all actuality, the Cornucopia is only a couple hundred metres to the west. Brian has been kneeling by a pond for several minutes now—more than long enough for him to take a drink. Sneaking forward slightly, she pushes Brian's shoulder softly; he falls over. She flips the body over and sees that… "A dummy?"

A sharp sensation sprouts in the back of her head. Her knees buckle and she falls forward; "I knew you were there." Brian's voice.

"…How…?"

"I saw you at night. Around the fire; plus I heard you in the bushes several times." He laughs a little. "Shame. If you'd told me how to get back down, I may have spared you. I'll ask you one last time, since you're dying." His voice turns a bit harsh as he rolls her over onto her back. "Where is the Cornucopia."

Cypress works up a glob of blood and saliva and spits in his eye; he snarls a bit. "I'm going to enjoy this." He smashes a rock into her temple; it's the very last thing she sees as she is consumed in darkness…

("DAMN! These dudes are tricky bastards~" trills Ivre, spinning his arms wildly.)

Holden has been moving nonstop for two days straight; as soon as he killed Destin, he knew he had to get the hell out of there. It wasn't exactly a well-kept secret that he and the girl from Two had a thing for each other—hell, he heard a rumour that the two had spent the night together the night before the Games started. Of course, there was no evidence, since nobody spoke to Robin or him besides Portia. But either way, he needed to be far away from _her_. Kneeling and drinking from a pond in a grove, he splashes some water in his face—his eyes were beginning to droop a bit. He is tired; very tired. Perhaps just a small nap would do…

"Finally I've found you."

Shit. This is not good—_horrible_ actually. He knows her voice—he needs to run. _Now_.

"And don't even think about running." she growls. "Turn around. Now."

He does so—keeping his head down. The black-haired girl, though he cannot see her, is smirking at him. She kicks him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Pinning his arms down, she draws a curved knife from her sleeve. "I am going to _enjoy_ this."

Smiling madly at the torture that Holden is being put through, Ivre watches in full focus. "Nobody should have to be put through what that boy is." He says happily. "Too damn bad that he had it coming. _Never fight a revenge-driven child_, eh?" Ivre grins fiercely.

"Hell yeah." He says, clapping his hands together.

After the torturous death that Holden was put to—don't ask to read about it, because it is _not_ pretty and probably illegal to depict in forty-three states as well as Atlantis—Portia walks out of the grove, whistling happily. It won't bring her love back, but… it will at least bring her closure. Holden is dead; she no longer cares if she lives nor dies.

Several more days pass with only one death: Brian from Six; he had eventually starved to death, unable to catch any of the animals, nor did he find the fruit that Cypress had had on her corpse. The only ones who remain are Harley, Portia, Seth, Shawn and Rebecca. Well…

"Damn…" Harley says as he is thrashed around by a giant tentacle; he is being squeezed horribly. It is slowly dragging him into the pond where he has spent the entire Games. He has nothing else to say… nothing at all, besides… "I'm… sorry… sister."

With Shawn and Rebecca, the two are jolted from sleep by the sound of a cannon; Shawn was sleeping with an arm wrapped around Rebecca, the latter being curled into his body. It's a rather cute sight, honestly—the two truly did have feelings for each other, but Shawn refused to admit it, despite constantly referring to her with names such as "Becca," "sweetie," and the like—Rebecca is much more open about it, hugging him, kissing his cheek, and of course… sleeping beside him. "What was that…?" Rebecca asks, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep," Shawn says, slowly standing up and removing the blanket from his body, covering Rebecca again. "I'm just going to check on something. I'll be right back."

Rebecca yawns and nods, drifting back to sleep. Shawn takes a slow step out of the safety of their little area, which is surrounded by trees, and looks around—a wall of flames is advancing from the south. "Shit." Shawn mutters, running over and kneeling beside Rebecca. "Becca, wake up."

"Mm…? What now, Shawn?" she asks quietly, yawning cutely.

"We have to get going. There's a bunch of fire coming our way."

"What…?"

"Come on!" Shawn says, grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder. He takes off in a run toward the mountains, the flames quickly following. As they near the summit, Shawn sees another tribute running that way as well—it's the girl from Two, Portia: one of the only people who could possibly stop Rebecca from winning. He sets the girl down and looks her square in the eye. "Rebecca. I want you to run to the Cornucopia."

"What? Why? Not without you!"

"Becca. Go." He says forcefully. "I'm going to stop Portia. You should be able to make it, and win. Listen to me…" his expression softens. "I'm sorry…" he whispers. "I love you."

"I love you too. Please Shawn, come with me!" Rebecca begs.

He kisses her; when they draw apart, he looks at her and says one thing: "Go." before taking off toward Portia; Rebecca follows Shawn's command—she runs to the Cornucopia area… and she breaks down into tears when she hears the sound of two cannons. She knows Shawn has died.

"I don't want to kill you." Comes a voice from inside the Cornucopia. "I've done enough killing."

She gasps slightly when Seth from Five walks out of the Cornucopia as if he were on a stroll; his expression said nothing to betray that fact—he is calm and stoic as ever. "Besides, my head hurts from all the calculations I've done." He wears a bearskin around him like a coat, and he carries a knife in one hand.

"What's your name?" she asks cautiously.

"Seth. District Five." He says courteously. "I know who you are—Rebecca, female tribute of District Seven. Seventeen years old; lover to Shawn, seventeen year old male of District Three, now passed." At her downcast look, he apologizes. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"Don't worry about it…" she says quietly, looking at the flames that have surrounded the area on all sides, maxing out the heat. They're practically perspiring now—Seth sheds his bearskin coat. "I plan to join him soon."

"You're not going to try to win? Why ever not?"

"Shawn is dead. No point in it now."

"He would have had to die anyway."

"Now I'll die with him. I'll be with him again." She's already walking toward the flames. Seth is quite conflicted—save the girl and possibly die, or win?

Save the girl or win? ("DON'T YOU _DARE_ SAVE THE GIRL YOU DUMMY!" yells Ivre at the screen) Save the girl or win? Those words keep repeating—not just inside his head, but in the actual movie—there's been an echo effect given to it to make it more dramatic.

During his pondering, Rebecca has made her way to the fire. "So long, Seth." She says, walking in. Her cannon fires shortly after.

"Damn it. I got so caught up in my thinking, and I let her die." Seth says, not sounding at all sorry—although who can actually tell with him? He's a genius—he hardly shows emotion anyway.

* * *

><p>Ivre looks at the screen expectantly, hoping for some sort of jumpscare or <em>something<em>. "Well, that was anticlimactic, wasn't it? BOOOOOOOO! HISS! BOO!"

He drinks some more of his whiskey and pauses the movie. "I'm gonna go play Skyrim." He says, stumbling out of the room happily.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go folks! I really wanted to make at least one anticlimactic Games—I bet a lot of you thought that Seth was going to save Rebecca—maybe even a certain reviewer who has been betting on Seth the whole time :P But anyway, that's it for this time. Again, sorry for no update yesterday. I'll probably start doing the Reapings soon too, since we're starting to get a decent amount of tributes. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!<strong>

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Marina Caspian_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Reserved – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Reserved – Danny Takuto_


	8. History of Panem Part 7 - Ivre's Hotel

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a new chapter. Not much to say here, just that this one may be a bit shorter than the others, but it's more of a lighthearted, fun chapter. ****Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't know why I have to keep putting this. I don't, nor will I ever, own The Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins; I'm merely treating this story as if the other two books in the series never existed (aside from the Quell in Catching Fire).<strong>

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><p><strong>August 22<strong>**nd****, 21:00 – The Capitol**

"*Sigh* How do I get myself into this stuff?" mutters Ian Partridge, intern to Etho Pierce, President Ivre's personal secretary. As the intern, Ian often gets stuck with the more humiliating things that Ivre does—and now, he's been forced to follow the president around the Capitol all day. And now…

"I knew something was fishy. We never got the cause of death. This woman has been murdered." Ivre says quietly; the two of them are facing down a group of six Peacekeepers, all under orders to bring the president back to his mansion. "And you think I did it." He finishes, catching the Peacekeepers off guard—they share confused looks between each other, and Ivre takes off in a run.

"HEY! STOP!" the Peacekeepers shout, running after him.

"Run Zero!" calls Ivre—he's reached that state of drunk where you're pretty much aware of everything, although it's like you're in a different reality; yeah, that kind of drunk. And this particular reality that Ivre is envisioning himself in is none other than that of _The Grand Budapest Hotel_, a movie that Ian (who he now believes to be Zero, his lobby boy) is currently _regretting_ showing him.

"Why did I ever show him that…? And why the hell do I keep going and getting him more Jack?!" Ian sighs.

Meanwhile, back at Ivre's mansion, the television is still on…

* * *

><p>Welcome to the Seventy-eighth Annual Hunger Games; a masterpiece of a city serves as the arena. There were seven levels to it, each one-hundred feet high, and each is carved into a cliff; around each level is a large white wall, and set inside each wall is a gate, though the gates are not aligned with each other, so as to make it harder to navigate between areas. In between each wall, there are buildings that serve several purposes; in the second wall, there are many blacksmiths and armouries. The tributes appear in the innermost area, a large white open-air citadel with an enormous pile of supplies, though the tributes are still 100 to 150 metres away from it.<p>

The tributes appear in District order—vain Garland and sadistic Sapphire from District 1; happy-go-lucky Helios and clumsy Selene of District 2; geniuses Colress and Fuze from 3; hard-working Orman and rebellious Marlene from 4; unremarkable Heron and lying Anna from 5; glutton Linus (you really have no idea how many people there are in 6 named Linus) and teasing Elaine of District 6; quiet Pan and caring Rachel from 7; daring Jasper and truly skilled Paisley of 8; pyromaniac Ryder and kleptomaniac Leanne of 9; wise-ass Barker and harsh McKenzie from 10; oddball Finch and stealthy Mimosa of 11; and finally gloomy Lester and bright-eyed Ariana from 12.

Leanne from 9 is currently staring at the supplies with an almost hungry look; what can she steal? Should she risk the more worthwhile items and weapons? She almost misses the countdown, and when the clock ticks to one, she takes off for the Cornucopia. She sighs in relief when she reaches it first, grabbing a set of knives from the very middle, as well as a small backpack and a bottle of water; before she prepares to run from the arena, she quickly takes a moment to slice her District partner's throat while he searches for matches, and then she runs.

Lester is having a one-sided sword fight with Orman, the eighteen-year-old male from District 4; and by one-sided, that obviously means that he is attempting to defend himself as Orman lays into him like a jackhammer, barely protecting himself against his vicious onslaught. Finally Orman smacks the sword out of his hands and the gloomy, weak-willed man from 12 (he turned 19 on that very day) simply raises his head to the sky, knowing his time was over. He cares not as the sharp tip of the sword stabs through his chest; he dies with a carefree, sad smile on his face.

Heron has been thrown over a crate by Helios, who in the heat of battle has turned into a killer; the boy from 2, currently wielding a knife, slashes Heron's throat and returns to the battle. Linus is using his high metabolism to his advantage by running around quite fast, stealing things from the Cornucopia here and there. But finally he ventures too far in and is caught by Marlene from 4, who pierces him with her trident. Selene has, unsurprisingly, fallen onto the blade of her own axe and died. McKenzie has been struck down by Paisley, and her body is thrown unceremoniously over a supply crate.

Finch and Mimosa both fled the Cornucopia together, but they quickly split when Finch went through a gate, and then Mimosa attempted to follow only to have the gate come crashing down on her, killing her instantly. Pan and Rachel let their longstanding disdain for each other (they had hated each other since childhood) and fought each other tooth-and-nail before Pan backed into and impaled himself on a spear, which stuck out his chest and pierced through hers. Anna from District 5 met a similar fate when she and Fuze took a tumble down the sheer edge to the north of the citadel; they had snapped necks and crushed skulls and the like. Most of the other tributes have fled to the outre rings now; the Careers have taken control of the Cornucopia.

"Damn it, Selene," says Garland, kicking the corpse of Selene, axe still stuck inside her body. He currently holds a spear over his shoulder and guzzles down a bottle of water. "I told you all this would happen."

"I'd have to agree with you there," says Sapphire uncaringly. She cleans her fingernails with a bloodied hunting knife—while it had not seen a death, she had used it to slice the arm of the girl from 9. "I only wish you guys didn't hog all the kills. I would've taken killing Selene just to save her from herself if I got the chance."

Helios gives her a grin. "You really are ruthless, aren't you?" he says cheekily.

"You really are ready to die, aren't you?" Sapphire mocks, though it is an empty threat.

"Hate to interrupt you lovers," says Orman with a small smirk, "but we really need to get in gear. It's probably not a good idea to stay around here, even if we are stronger than the others."

"Shut up Orman!" Sapphire and Helios say rather quickly at his first quip, but both nod in response to his second. Orman's smirk only widens when the two glance quickly at each other, then away, blushing.

"I told you we didn't have to be serious all the time in the Hunger Games." Garland says with a small laugh. "Now all of you get the hell away from me before you mess up my hair." He adds, 100% serious.

Sapphire and Helios tilt their head at the boy, while Orman merely shakes his head and says, "Man, you really should've let me call in… a _favour_ from some of my father's… _acquaintances_. If you're catching my… _drift!_ …Did that ocean pun do anything for you?"

"No," shakes of the head, "not really," and "you're a moron" are the responses he gets. The male from Four sighs. "You people need to get a sense of humour."

* * *

><p><strong>August 22<strong>**nd****, 23:15 – The Capitol**

"Well, my dear Zero, it appears that we have finally been caught," says Ivre in an accent that is rather similar to a British one; "you know the drill."

"Zip it." Ian sighs, nodding his head affirmatively. The two now sit in a Peacekeeper's station, both in handcuffs (despite Ian not having done anything). After running from the Peacekeepers for two hours, they were finally apprehended in the midst of a heated argument between Ivre and oddly enough, a huge mutant turtle. Before the turtle could be arrested, however, he mysteriously disappeared into the sewers.

"Good boy. Now what is the situation we're in again?" Ivre wonders aloud. "Oh yes. Serge X, missing. Deputy Kovacs, also missing. Madame D, dead. Boy with Apple, stolen. By us. Dmitri and Jopling, ruthless, cold-blooded savages. Alexandre Ivre, no longer at large. What else?"

"Ian Partridge, very confused."

"Zero, confused indeed. The plot thickens, eh? …The hell does that even mean, is it like a soup metaphor or some shit?"

"I don't know." Ian says, sighing again. "Seriously, how do I get into this crap?"

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go folks! Lots of references to one of my favourite movies of the year (<strong>_**The Grand Budapest **_**Hotel) in this chapter, as well as part of a Hunger Games with a map based off of none other than Minas Tirith from Lord of the Rings (because at least one copy of **_**Lord of the Rings**_**, book **_**or**_** movie had to have survived!)! But anyway, that's it for this time. Again, sorry for no update yesterday. I'll probably start doing the Reapings soon too, since we're starting to get a decent amount of tributes. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!**

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Marina Caspian_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Reserved – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Holden Stross _–_ hollowman96  
><em>

_Female: Luna Marissa Moonlight Starbright (Joke tribute/Bloodbath) _–_ Hi  
><em>

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lauren Lancaster _–_ Hi  
><em>

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Akakios Hibbert _–_ The Koala of Doom  
><em>

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Reserved – Danny Takuto_


	9. History of Panem Part 8 - A Divre Escape

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a new chapter. Not much to say here, just that this one may be a bit shorter than the others, but it's more of a lighthearted, fun chapter. Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't know why I have to keep putting this. I don't, nor will I ever, own The Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins; I'm merely treating this story as if the other two books in the series never existed (aside from the Quell in Catching Fire).<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>August 23<strong>**rd****, 18:00 – The Capitol, a Prison Cell**

Ian Partridge sits in his lonely prison cell; the walls are of grey concrete and the iron bars remind him of how trapped he is—trapped into looking after Ivre and his drunken delusions. The singular bed that is basically just a board with a blanket serves as no comfort to him—he has been imprisoned, while the still drunk President Ivre has been pardoned.

Sighing in his lonely, downcast state, he suddenly hears a whirring sound. "What the hell…?" he mutters, running over to the back wall; he hears the sound coming from behind the short window set inside it. Looking out of it, he sees… "*sigh* Bloody hell, Ivre…"

Yes! Alexandre Ivre is driving a machine with a large drill toward the intern's cell wall, staring determinedly ahead—despite being drunk, he is still at the point where he acts sober… even though he's undeniably drunk. "Don't worry, Zero! I am _on_ my way!"

"Why is it always me?" moans Ian sadly, staring up at the stone ceiling and shaking his head.

* * *

><p>"Ready to die?"<p>

Those are the last words that come out of Barker's mouth. Well, actually the last words would be, "Damn." The boy from District Ten has apparently cornered Paisley, the tiny fifteen year old female of District Eight, in a small armoury in one of the lower rings. She has a small knife which seems to be a mere toothpick in comparison to the boy's axe (it actually makes Paisley appear even smaller in his eyes); he hefts the axe over his shoulder and swings it at her after he says those words, but feels a sharp pain in his stomach as Paisley stabs the knife into his stomach and drags it across, running away from him. He falls down, dropping his own axe and nearly falling onto the blade. Thus dies Barker Banner, only child of Bruce Banner, richest man in District Ten; he also marks the first death since the Bloodbath—an event that happened two days before.

Across the city, even more hell is breaking loose—the Careers have found Finch and Elaine, of Districts Eleven and Six. Finch has been casually playing golf this entire time with a club he found in a house, while Elaine has been stalking him (in a similar manner to a certain lavender-haired girl in one of Ivre's favourite anime) from behind walls and such, blushing whenever he'd look her way.

Of course, Finch has never been the wiser.

However, after Sapphire drags Elaine out from an alley and sits her down on her knees in front of Finch, she was too shy to speak—instead she merely squeaks, blushes and covers her eyes. Upon this sight, Finch breaks out of Garland's strong grip (Hey, Finch is named after a badass—how could he not?) and cuts him down with his sword.

At this sight, Orman whines, "Come on, man! If he won my old man was gonna get him a… er..."

"A what?" asks Finch.

"Well, I'm not so sure I can say it on live television… considering their profession is… technically illegal. You get what I'm saying?"

"Oh. So… _oh_." Finch says, sudden realization dawning on him.

"Yes." replies Orman.

"You mean a… p… p…"

"Yes."

"…You're a good friend." Finch says, nodding repeatedly. "A very good friend."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," says Finch, his hand moving to his sword (considering none of the Careers have restrained him yet). "Now DIE!" his sword cleaves into Orman's chest, cutting through it like butter. Sinewy, muscular butter, but butter nonetheless. He turns on Sapphire now, since she is the closest to him.

"SAPPHIRE!" yells Helios as the sword strikes toward her, snapping her out of her daze. Helios spears Finch right through the chest and pushes him away from Sapphire… but not before Elaine tries to stab him with her small knife and manages to get a small cut on his wrist, causing him to let one end of his spear drop.

"Get away from him!" cries Sapphire as she picks up the smaller girl, throwing her headfirst into the wall. Sapphire stalks over to Elaine and slashes her throat quickly. She looks over to Helios, a look of concern on her face. "Are you alright, Helios?" she asks softly, walking over to the boy from Two and taking his hand softly.

"Yeah…" he says quietly, turning to face her.

At the same time, Marlene is just awkwardly standing there, watching the pair with an expression that is a mix of shock, exasperation, and utter "why me?"

Meanwhile (just gonna leave the ending to Sapphire and Helios's conversation to your imagination ;) ), in the outermost wall, Ariana of Twelve is hiding in a shop made of sunbaked bricks. In the back of it is a small bit of meat and water, and she found a butcher's knife in there as well. She knows that while she may not have the greatest chance to win, at least now she stands a chance.

…Or does she? Throughout this whole day a large creature had been stomping around the same ring, wearing much armour and heavy boots; from what Ariana was able to glimpse, it also carries a huge battle axe. She is actually rather terrified of it, so that previous statement about her feeling that she has a chance was… a little less than true. And by a little less than true, of course that means that it's a complete and total lie. ("JUST LIKE EVERYTHING CHASE SAYS!" yells Ivre from very, very far away)

A few seconds of cowering later, and she decides to make a break for the armoury a few houses down. She hasn't heard stomping in quite a while, and if she can get into the armoury, there may be weapons… maybe even armour ("WHY THE HELL WOULD THERE BE ARMOUR IN AN ARMOURY?!" Ivre screams again. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!" Ian Partridge says, shaking the president's shoulders).

"HAAAH!" comes a screaming from a way's down, though definitely still in her ring. A cannon fires, followed by four more.

"Jeez, five people dead within minutes of each other, what are the odds?" Ariana muses, moving out from behind the shop's counter. She makes her way to the empty doorframe and pokes her head out ever-so-slightly. She sighs in relief, "It's nowhere near…" and she takes off running down the street toward the armoury.

However… she has no idea that she's being watched from a wide alleyway nearby; the silhouette of a giant creature in armour with piercing red eyes has its eyes locked on her, a giant battle axe hefted over its shoulders.

* * *

><p>"Zero, stand back!" calls Ivre as the drill breaks through the wall. The rubble crashes down, with Ian Partridge taking cover under his board-bed. "Get up in here, my faithful lobby boy!"<p>

"For once, sir, gladly!" says Ian, climbing up into the cab of the drill.

"Yes, let's go steal back Boy with Apple, eh, Zero?"

"I think we should get back to the mansion, sir."

"There will be time to return to the hotel when this is done! There is still more to do, much more thieving to do." Ivre says happily.

Ian sighs once more. "What are you even talking about, sir?"

"You see, Zero, there are still faint glimpses of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was known as humanity. Indeed, that's what we provide in our own modest… screw it. We're stealing Boy with Apple again."

"NOOOO!"

* * *

><p>Night has settled on the arena once more. The sky is afire with the seal of Panem, though this time it appears to be cloaked in a blazing fire. The national anthem is played with the background of a crackling fire. The fallen tributes begin to appear one by one. Paisley watches this with distinct interest.<p>

Garland of District One appears first, followed by Orman of District Four; "Strange. I wouldn't have expected two Careers to die in one day," Paisley says quietly. Elaine of Six and then Paisley's own partner, Jasper. Finally there is Finch of Eleven, after which the sky grows dark once more, lacking even the artificial light of the fake stars.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, how the hell do I get into this stuff…?" Ian asks as he and Ivre are carried away, once more, by Peacekeepers—though this time with several paintings.<p>

"HEY! Get your hands off my lobby boy!" Ivre cries, thrashing about.

"Settle down, Mr. President, I don't want to use it, but I _will_ tase you, bro." says one of the Peacekeepers as they are hauled away. That settles Ivre _right_ down.

* * *

><p><strong>There you go everybody. This chapter is a bit more light-hearted, per usual. Also, hopefully you've figured out Finch's namesake before now (it's Paul Finch from the American Pie movies) ;) . As usual, there are several references to <strong>_**The Grand Budapest Hotel, **_**one of my favourite movies of the year. Anyway, we're starting to get down to business with tributes, only a few spots left (hell yeah!) so I'm planning to start writing the Reapings soon. Would you guys want me to alternate between Reapings and these chapters after I do, so I have more time to write the Reapings? Because honestly, the Reapings would take a bit longer to write than this since these are my own characters—I want it to be as perfect as I can get it when I write yours. A****nyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!**

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Reserved – LokiThisIsMadness_

_Female: Marina Caspian - o Sweet Disposition o  
><em>

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Open!_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Capri Dusk – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Open!_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Holden Stross – hollowman96_

_Female: Luna Marissa Moonlight Starbright (Joke tribute/Bloodbath) – Hi_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Axel Adamik – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Lauren Lancaster – Hi_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Akakios Hibbert – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Jasmine Polk – Danny Takuto_

* * *

><p><strong>There you go, folks! Exactly four spots left (I might actually make a male for D6, just for the heck of it) before we can really get this stuff in gear! I'm allowing everyone to make up to three tributes now, seeing as that's how many Danny-san did. Just remember, they're at a great risk for the. Bloodbath if you do ;) I absolutely love the bloodbaths... for my own reasons. W-what? Don't look at me like that! <strong>


	10. History of Panem Part 9 - Ivre's Song

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a new chapter. Not much to say here, just that this one may be a bit shorter than the others, but it's more of a lighthearted, fun chapter. Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;) . As always, this chapter will have quite a bit of hilarity in it—usually caused by Ivre, no doubt. Also there's a bit of a sing-along later in the chapter, courtesy of Ivre, Ian and one of Ivre's friends. The song is Guren no Yumiya by Linked Horizon-better known as the Attack on Titan Theme song. Anyway, just read on!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't know why I have to keep putting this. I don't, nor will I ever, own The Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins; I'm merely treating this story as if the other two books in the series never existed (aside from the Quell in Catching Fire).<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>August 23<strong>**rd****, 21:00 – The Capitol**

"See, Zero, I told you that if you just trust in me, I'd see us through this!"

"I hardly consider _this_ seeing us through!"

"Don't take that tone with me, Zero! We should be back at the hotel within minutes!"

"We're at least fifteen miles away!"

…Yep. Ivre and Ian broke out of jail. Again. Oh, and they kept the paintings they stole… not to mention the ten squads of Peacekeepers chasing after them to retake the paintings and send Zero—er, Ian, sorry about that—to jail and put Ivre back in his mansion.

Although, seeing as how the last two times Ivre simply broke Ian out, one would wonder why they're even wasting their time. It's almost as if Ivre has crazy powers when he's drunk like this… or perhaps he's just very, very crafty and resourceful.

Either way, Ian is _not_ happy about this. In fact, he's talking to himself while running—"'You should work for the president's secretary, Ian, it'll be fun, Ian! This would be a great internship on your record, Ian! Look after the president, Ian! He shouldn't give you any trouble!' I'm going to kick all their asses when I'm done with this…" he grumbles.

"Look out Zero." says Ivre, jogging along rather leisurely; he grabs Ian's arm and yanks him out of the way of a dumpster he nearly ran into.

* * *

><p>"NO! Put me down, you big beast!" screams Ariana of District Twelve, kicking and pounding at the gigantic hand that has just snatched her up. Her frantic strikes make only resounding noises against the gauntleted hand of the creature; she refuses to look into its fearsome red eyes, for fear that she will fall prey to it. She had woken this morning, the sixth day of these Games, to no deaths—there had been absolutely zero deaths over the days—and still not one person had seen hide nor hair of Colress, male tribute of District Three. Seconds after she had awoken, the giant hand smashed through the front of the building she had hidden in and snatched her up, bringing her face to face with the creature she had been fearing since the beginning.<p>

It utters a horrid grunt, as if it is trying to speak, but nothing comes out; when she looks at it weirdly, it snorts in rage—rather like a pig, actually (if you want a better image, {and you don't know this reference, look it up on Google images} think of Oolong's robot disguise in the original Dragon Ball) and throws her headfirst into the ground, snapping her neck on impact, and her cannon fires almost instantly; but it doesn't stop there. It raises its heavy battleax and allows it to loom over her twisted neck like a grim moon, then drops it and cuts her head clean off. Blood has spattered the sunbaked walls of the clean area… and just as it appeared, the creature is gone.

Meanwhile, Colress has actually been hiding out in the citadel where they started this entire time. He had found some wiring and other supplies from rummaging around in the top ring, and he has begun to set his trap; he laughs quietly to himself. "Hell yeah… this Games is gonna go out with a bang." And this would be true…

…Had Leanne, female tribute of District 9 not have been sabotaging his trap this entire time. Whenever he would lay down a wire or place an explosive or other sort of device, she would tamper with it ever so slightly—to the point where it wasn't even noticeable; and then, she would steal his food. But she isn't ready to kill Colress—not yet; she's rather enjoying this little game she's playing: hide-and-go-sabotage-the-little-bastard. During the Pregame, she had grown to hate Colress for his naturally haughty nature, and she had personally sworn to kill him if she had the chance.

But instead, she's going to play with him, just a little bit longer. Then she will kill him in his sleep, and in the final few, the others will come to the citadel, and she'll trigger an explosion to make the ceiling collapse in on them—if any even survive the explosion, that is. There's so much she can do.

She feels a sharp pain in the back of her neck—moving her hand to that spot, she discovers a small knife, more of a kunai actually, sticking into her. It's not life-threatening, not at that spot; then another pierces the side of her neck, and then another into her back. "H-how…?" she mutters, looking around weakly; blood is beginning to dribble from the side of her mouth. She can barely move; her heart rate is slowing down. She read (*cough* stole *cough) her mother's medical book back home—this shouldn't have that effect on a person; she couldn't have bled out this quickly… unless… "Poison." She says with a bitter laugh; of course!

Leanne of District 9 dies with her face frozen in that same vitriolic laugh; Colress kicks her body over and retrieves his daggers. "They say never to mess with a genius. They are right approximately 99.75196 percent of the time. And of course, this is one of those times," he says coldly, returning to his invention. This truly will become the greatest Games in the 70's. Or so he believes.

Unbeknownst to him, however, the others are coming sooner than he had hoped. The Careers are nearly upon him right now—well, Helios and Sapphire are. Marlene got lost and stumbled onto Paisley, who she is currently fighting, trident to axe, fisherwoman to girl with a crazy-ass dad.

Marlene thrusts her trident at Paisley, who merely sidesteps and swings her axe—which is blocked by Marlene with relative ease. Marlene stabs once more at Paisley, though this time she attempts to trip her; this tactic works, and Paisley is on her back on the ground. As Marlene raises her trident to deliver the final blow, Paisley rolls over to the side slightly—just out of the way of the weapon. She grabs her axe and swings it upward, cutting into Marlene's side. She uses the axe to fling her down and get on top of her, slashing down with the axe several more times, even after the cannon fires.

Should Helios and Sapphire have been watching this, they would have realized _not_ to mess with Paisley.

* * *

><p>"Mr. President, can we go home now?" asks Ian quietly.<p>

"Zero my boy… this is home now." Ivre replies, leaning back. The rocking of the boxcar serves as a bit of a rhythmic lullaby to the drunken man, whose eyes are finally beginning to shut. He leans his head to the side and begins to drift off to sleep, until…

"Mr. President?"

"Yes, Zero?"

"Who is driving this train?"

"Ah, that my boy… would be Dane Eclater. Head Gamemaker and total psychopath. Well, not so sure about that last part. But he's definitely a crazy drunk." Ivre says with a fond grin.

Meanwhile, up at the front of the train, a man with long, waist-length brown hair that is crazy and wild, with tanned skin and violet eyes is driving the locomotive, a bottle of sake in the hand that is not controlling the steering. "WOO~ WOO~" he mimicks the sound of a train whistle. "ALRIGHT~ LET'S DO THIS~ LEEROOOOOOOOYYYY~ JEENNKIINNNNSSS!" he says happily, giggling. Downing the bottle of sake, he tosses it out the open window (which is providing quite a bit of cold air for him) and begins to sing.

In Japanese. "_Fumareta hana no, namae moshirazu ni~ chi ni ochita tori wa, kaze wo machiwabiru~_" and from the back, Ivre joins in; "_Inotta tokoro de, nani mo kawaranai~ ima o kaeru no wa, tatakau kaku go da~_"

Ian, taking a long swig from a Jack Daniels bottle, continues: "_Shikabane fumikoete, susumu ishi wo warau buta yo~ kachiku no annei, kyogi no han'ei~ shiseru garou JIYUU~ wo~_"

Then in a single harmony, the drunken cabal sings out loudly, "_Torawareta kutsujoku wa~ hangeki no koushi da~ jouheki no sono kanata~ emono wo hofuru~ JÄGER~_" they all laugh and drink at this part, "_Hotobashiru~ shoudou ni~ sono mi wo yakinagara~ tasogare ni, hi wo ugatsu~ GUREN NO YUMIYA~~_"

"…President Ivre?" asks Ian quietly.

"Yes my boy?"

"…What was that we just sang."

"That would be the theme song for Attack on Titan. I recently rediscovered some old texts about it while surfing the internet while drunk and we were able to recreate it. Greatest thing I've ever seen."

"After _The Grand Budapest Hotel_?"

"What do you mean, Zero? We can't go back to the hotel now."

Ian sighs. Good enough. "My mom is gonna _kill_ me…"

* * *

><p>The days have droned on—Helios and Sapphire have been watching Colress, to see what he has been doing; Paisley has been doing the same. Crazy part: Paisley is a floor above the Career duo—same house and everything. Basically, she's going to kill them when they go to sleep.<p>

Then they all hear Colress taunting: "Come out, come out little tributes. I'm unarmed, just sweet little Colress-chan."

Finally, to stop this annoying, incessant teasing, Paisley decides to jump from her window and rush the citadel. This certainly takes Colress by surprise when she tackles him; he smirks at her, knowing he can't beat her, when she raises the axe over her head; he pulls a remote from his pocket and presses the button…

…

…

"What the hell?" Colress exclaims, pressing the button several more times. Nothing. "Damn it! That damned Leanne must have messed everything up…!" He gurgles a bit—her axe is lodged in his throat. His cannon fires quickly… but then there's a huge explosion that lights up the dimming, evening sky. The citadel rocks under the force, and several chunks of stone crumble down—including one that crushes Paisley to death.

"…What the hell just happened?" says Helios.

"…I don't know. I really don't know," says Sapphire, "but can you believe it, Helios?! We did it!"

"I could kiss you right now," says Helios happily.

"Then why don't you?" Sapphire says, leaning in and kissing him softly; then she groans out. She pulls away, looking down: a sickle sword is piercing through her stomach and out her back. What's worse is that Helios is holding the sword, a smirk gracing his fair features. "W-what…?"

"You may not believe this, Sapphy, but I've been playing you all since the very beginning. I had every intention of this—I'll admit, all this kissing has been fun and stuff. But let's get real—I would never have let you win. And thanks to this, you never will." Helios says, his usually pleasant voice now twisted by his true ferocity. "Sorry Sapphire." He smirks a bit more, thrusting the sword in deeper and twisting a bit. "Sorry I'm not sorry."

And thus Helios Marullus, son of Brutus Marullus, won the Seventy-eighth Hunger Games. Were he still alive (having died in the Seventy-fifth Games), his father would have been quite proud of him—he had pulled a similar tactic in his own Games.

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><p>"<strong>ATTENTION: PULL THE TRAIN OVER NOW. I REPEAT: PULL THE TRAIN OVER NOW.<strong>"

"Shit, we've been found!" Ivre says. He runs up to the front of the boxcar, leans out the door and yells to the locomotive, "THE FUZZ IS ON US, DANE! GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR!"

Several Peacekeeper hovercraft are trailing the train, all with paratrooper squads bent on retrieving the president, Head Gamemaker, and jailing the intern whose name nobody knows nor cares about. Should be easy, right?

Well, we'll have to wait until next time!

* * *

><p><strong>You heard the narrator, folks! Of course, that would be me. But… you know. Also, we got our first look at Mr. Explosive himself, Dane Eclater (his last name actually roughly translates to "explode" or "explosion" in French, just like Ivre translates roughly to "drunk" in French) <strong>**As usual, there are several references to **_**The Grand Budapest Hotel, **_**one of my favourite movies of the year. Anyway, we're starting to get down to business with tributes, only a few spots left (hell yeah!) so I'm planning to start writing the Reapings soon. Would you guys want me to alternate between Reapings and these chapters after I do, so I have more time to write the Reapings? Because honestly, the Reapings would take a bit longer to write than this since these are my own characters—I want it to be as perfect as I can get it when I write yours. Anyway, thanks for reading everyone. Take care, have a nice day and all that!**

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Reserved – LokiThisIsMadness_

_Female: Marina Caspian - o Sweet Disposition o_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Reserved – David Noklevername  
><em>

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Vince Chanel - BubbaKeith  
><em>

_Female: Reserved – ThatMusician_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Capri Dusk – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Kestrel Cross - rdfalcon560  
><em>

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Holden Stross – hollowman96_

_Female: Luna Marissa Moonlight Starbright (Joke tribute/Bloodbath) – Hi_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Axel Adamik – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Lauren Lancaster – Hi_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Akakios Hibbert – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Jasmine Polk – Danny Takuto_

* * *

><p><strong>WOO! Look at that, folks! Soon as we get the two reserved characters submitted, we'll be good to go! I know I've asked this already, but I didn't get much response-do you guys mind if I alternate between these chapters and the Reapings once they start? It would probably take a little longer to write the Reapings than these, considering these are just alternating between the crazy antics of the president and his intern whose name nobody knows nor cares about and then past Games which I can just make up as I go (not that I would, of course).<br>**

**P.S. **

**Jace-san and Danny-san:**

**You're both in for some tough competition. I think you'd be afraid if you saw how ruthless my girlfriend is ;) she told me to warn you before she steals my computer and writes a slow, painful death for each of your tributes. I don't want to say exactly what she said, but all I can say is... beware her ginger fury. You two are awesome and I would hate to see her destroying you both with the replica of Sting I got her for her birthday. Or any of the weapons we've bought for each other over the years.**

**I really don't know what I'm talking about anymore, to be perfectly honest XD**

**So, eh... I guess check yo'selves before you wreck yo'selves~ Chase~**


	11. History of Panem Part 10 - Explanation

**Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a new chapter. Not much to say here, just that this one may be a bit shorter than the others, but it's more of a lighthearted, fun chapter. Not much to say here, so I'll just post the regular stuff. As always, I'll be posting stuff like this to keep this story where people will find it (around the first two pages) and I'll be updating this fairly often, considering I've hit a bit of a wall with my other two stories. Also, be sure to tell me how you like my idea of the Forbidden Zones (explained in Chapter One—the arena is divided into sectors. Twice a day, a different zone will be selected; if a tribute steps into it, they will be blown up. The idea comes from one of my favourite novels of all time—Battle Royale by Koushun Takami. Great read if you ever feel like it… The Hunger Games is a lot like it—I'm saying it this way because Battle Royale was released in 1999, long before THG). Again, I'm taking reserves, but they must be requested through PM, and you have exactly one week after you make the request to come up with the sheet; lastly, I'm starting to let people make more than one tribute—but there's a higher chance one will be a Bloodbath tribute; also, there's a better chance they'll be accepted over someone else vying for that spot if your tribute is extremely well-written ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I'm too tired right now to come up with anything clever. I don't own Hunger Games.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>August 27<strong>**th****, 18:00 – The Capitol, a Prison**

"Happy birthday, Zero," says Ivre through the hole in the wall.

"Thank you sir. And for the last time, my name is _not_ Zero."

"Whatever you say, Zero."

Ivre is still _insanely_ drunk, even now—four days after he, Dane and Ian were captured by the Peacekeepers; Ian was imprisoned, Dane was given kitchen duty and Ivre… Ivre just does whatever the hell Ivre wants. Currently, he is pushing a cart around the prison, one that is laden with oatmeal, offering food to the inmates in honour of his lobby boy (intern) Zero (Ian)'s birthday. He managed to push a slice of cake into Ian's cell, though Dane Eclater, the Mad Bomber himself—also known as the Head Gamemaker—made it, so Ian… Ian's staying the hell away from that (he pushed it out of the barred window, just in case the Gamemaker lived up to his reputation and put some sort of explosive in it. Quick escape, actually).

So of course, Ivre, still not kicking his previous state of mind, pushes the cart to another cell. "Might I offer you inmates a plate of mush?"

* * *

><p>The Seventy-ninth Annual Hunger Games—known otherwise, for lack of a better word, as hell. Widely regarded as one of the least bloody Hunger Games, and also known as (so far) the last time anyone ever used a desert arena.<p>

The arena was a massive wasteland, with sand stretching on for miles and miles. A few small oases were scattered around, each of them containing a small pond filled with precious water. A bit of grass has grown in the shade of the palm trees, and a few berry bushes are around them. The Cornucopia area is a larger oasis, though the Cornucopia is built on an island in the middle of a dark, hazy pond of water. The tributes are raised up in a circle about fifteen metres from the pond, which is about fifteen more metres across. One by one the tributes arise.

First is cold-hearted Buck from District Ten; afterward comes bookworm Marion of Six, and her partner, Tony; brave Steve from Twelve and free-spirited Nicolas from Seven. Observant Mikel of Three and the unfunny pun maker from One, Tassel; dark horse Catelyn from Ten and Ero-sennin **(A/N: Perverted sage—alternate name for Jiraiya of the anime/manga **_**Naruto**_**) **Caspian from Four; Rob and Joe, the ridiculous pranksters from Five and Nine, as well as Arya and Maria, the combination fighters from Two and Four. Questioning Lucis from One and Martin from Two; the female tributes from Seven and Nine, Joanne and Scarlett; Avan and John, the unremarkable males of Eight and Eleven. Noisy Radis from Three and weak Oakley from Eleven; superstitious Eustacia from Twelve and bread-loving Nia from Five; and last of all, the smallest of the group—Dawn from Eight.

The tributes are off—giant Martin is the first to the Cornucopia, and overall first to die; as soon as he enters the water, he trips and falls, and is unable to get back up; he claws his way over to the Cornucopia island, with many of the tributes watching in horror as he drowns… but hey, he still reaches the island first. Buck and Steve each step over his body like a stepping stone, while each of the other Careers just take a running leap. Avan is pushed into the water by John, and he too is caught in the mud and drowns; John is tripped by Rob, who is fleeing with his ally Joe, and also drowns.

On the island, Lucis has slain Buck with a pickaxe she found on top of the pile, gouging out his eye and then taking out his throat. Tony from Six dragged Oakley of District Eleven with him and slew her as soon as he got a knife, tossing her body uncaringly into the water; he was dispatched quickly after by Arya and Maria, who double-teamed him with knives.

Tassel is grappling with Mikel over a backpack, and manages to rip the bag out of the boy from Three's hands and bludgeon him to death with it. Caspian hooks his trident through one of the straps on Nicolas's backpack as he is running away, and drags him back, stabbing him viciously very many times with his trident. Steve of Twelve dies quickly after, by mistake though—he is knocked into the water when Caspian is turning around, the shaft of his trident knocking him off balance.

The rest of the tributes had vacated the Cornucopia, with little to no supplies whatsoever. All of them managed to take in the surroundings and are focused on one thing: water. And of course, since there are so few oases, there is bound to be struggle for that…

_Buuuut_ you'll have to wait for that, because we're out of time here!

* * *

><p><strong>Heheh, you heard him! …Er, I mean… me. Anyway, now for a little explanation for you all. Starting from the beginning… of High School that is. You see, for those of you who aren'thaven't been to high school, your interests expand. When your interests expand, you take different classes like Drama. When you take different classes like Drama, you meet new friends (usually older than you, depending on when you join) who are funnier than hell. When you meet new friends who are funnier than hell, you try to be funnier than hell. When you try to be funnier than hell, you make friends for life. And when you make friends for life, you get invited to their weddings. And when you get invited to their weddings, any one of the morons who live with you, usually all of them actually, will tag along no matter what you say, whether they're invited or not. Don't let the morons who live with you tag along with you no matter what you say, get DirecTV… I don't know where I went with that one. **

**But yeah, I was at a wedding almost all last week, and yeah, all of my housemates (morons) went with me, even when none of them were invited. Then Sunday when we returned, well… that was my birthday. My twentieth birthday, actually; then yesterday, Monday, was my best friend CJ's birthday—also twenty. We also both got our Driver's Licenses for the first time ever today (Tuesday). Anyways, I'm **_**really**_** sleep deprived right now, so if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to bed.**

**~Chase**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Reserved – LokiThisIsMadness_

_Female: Marina Caspian - o Sweet Disposition o_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Reserved – David Noklevername_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Vince Chanel - BubbaKeith_

_Female: Katoptris Ford – ThatMusician_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Capri Dusk – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Kestrel Cross - rdfalcon560_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Holden Stross – hollowman96_

_Female: Luna Marissa Moonlight Starbright (Joke tribute/Bloodbath) – Hi_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Axel Adamik – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Lauren Lancaster – Hi_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Akakios Hibbert – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Jasmine Polk – Danny Takuto_


	12. The Grand Panempest Hotel

**Heheh… hey everyone. I don't really have an excuse here, except that I've just felt like being lazy (I found my copy of Fire Emblem Awakening and have been playing like crazy) and that (I'm only telling you this because I consider you guys friends) I no longer have a girlfriend… I now have a fiancée, so… yeah. Had to plan all sorts of stuff—primarily how I'm asking. Might tell you guys sometime, might not. Also I've been watching The Hobbit, The Grand Budapest Hotel, and writing stories for The Hobbit and Legend of Zelda. Plus I've tried to work on some of my other stories. Like I said, nothing really to say here, except that this chapter is going to be 100% a DREAM. Ivre shall have passed out, and he shall be dreaming this—it is NOT REAL. It's going to be based purely off of an episode of Spongebob—Graveyard Shift (one of the absolute GREATEST episodes)—except instead of the Krusty Krab… it's going to be the Grand Panempest Hotel. Enjoy~**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own any of the references I make, nor The Hunger Games.<strong>

* * *

><p>Once, there was a wide pass several kilometres wide and more than twice that many deep. A constant snow blanketed the area, even in spring and summer; the plants that thrived in the perpetual cold were all of the northern sort—very tall and thick, with dense canopies of leaves or thin blades of needles. There was a hotel on one side of the pass, a great big one with high roofs and gables and towers; a small, shabby (crappy is more the word for it) motel stood exactly opposite it on the other side. Cable cars ran through the area constantly, for the slopes were quite excellent for skiing and snowboarding. The owner of the great hotel, Dane Eclater, was constantly at odds with his former friend and current rival, the owner of the other hotel; his name was Etho Pierce.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>The Grand Panempest Hotel – 16:00<strong>

"Ian! Alexandre! Get your lazy arses up here!" thunders Dane Eclater, the esteemed owner of The Grand Panempest Hotel. He is a tanned man with long brown hair that is tied tidily in a ponytail; he wears a black suit with a red lapel, and a pair of glasses. His violet eyes are slanted into a slight scowl.

"Yes sir?" asks Alexandre "Gustave H." Ivre, the hotel's devoted concierge, beloved by many, despite his drunken nature. The tall man's hair is brown and tidy—for once; this is the first time in three months that his hair hasn't been disheveled from… various activities with guests; he wears a faded t-shirt and jeans, though he manages to look rather nice in them. Beside him stands the lobby boy, Ian "Zero" Partridge, who also serves as the best friend and sidekick to our dear concierge. His hair is of a silvery colour (think of Kabuto from _Naruto_) and his skin is very pale; a white collared shirt and black pants are his outfit, with red and black tennis shoes and a black pin that reads "The Grand Panempest Hotel" on his breast pocket.

"Look around, boys. What do you see?" says Eclater curtly, spreading his hands and gesturing around.

The concierge-lobby boy duo look around at the hotel. The sight is rather impressive: the lobby is a huge hall with many leather couches and chairs and fireplaces. A grand fireplace rests right below where the check-in desk is, an artificial fire blazing brightly inside its cage; several elevators are scattered throughout the room, and twin staircases sit resolute with each other, with several smaller staircases extending off of their landings, with all heading up to the various rooms. So many chandeliers and lamps are spread throughout the lobby, and bookcases and shelves galore with not only books but with statues and scrolls and various other amazing things line the walls. Normally this view would be amazing, especially from their spot at the check-in desk… were it not for the fact that the hotel is almost completely empty. "Nothing, sir," Ian says quietly.

"Exactly! We have almost no guests, considering Madame D. and her entourage left last week—don't you say anything, Alexandre." The owner warns; "But I can't figure out why that roach motel across the pass has so much business! I mean look at it, it's a freaking ROACH MOTEL! This is a five-star hotel!"

"Well, sir, they accept check-ins 24/7, and they also allow on-the-spot reservations," says the concierge.

"Hmm, I suppose you're right. Starting tomorrow, The Grand Panempest Hotel is open twenty-four hours a day!" says Eclater.

* * *

><p><strong>The Next Day, approx. 19:00<strong>

The day had gone without much interruption; Alexandre and Ian had spent the day racing baggage trolleys through the lobby (and knocking out the head chef, but that is a story for another day) and pressing every button in the elevators. At lunch they sat around stoking the flames of the grand fireplace with random pieces of furniture they gained through various means (by which it is of course meant that they stole the items from the motel across the pass) whilst singing a song known as "Blunt the Knives". At dinner they tore tree branches from pines outside and used the baggage trollies as steeds for a jousting contest (Zero nearly broke his arm, but he was fine nonetheless).

A few guests checked in early in the morning, but the day was near over and no one else came. Darkness began to fall upon them. The warm light from the inside flooded out of the front door, and washed over the steps. After the jousting contest, the owner had caught the concierge and lobby-boy and scolded them, so as a result the two are now just sitting at the desk, bored. Finally, breathing a deep sigh, Ivre asks Ian, "Have I ever told you the story of the lobby-boy who worked here before you?"

At the shake of the boy's head, Ivre continues. "Well you see, he was much like you—my sidekick in a way." Ian opens his mouth to retort, refusing to admit that he is Ivre's sidekick (even though there is no doubt whatsoever that he is), but Ivre cuts him off. "Anyway, Zero, one day we were being rather careless. We decided to do a trolley joust from opposite ends of the lobby; I was positioned near the doors, and he by the fireplace. We took off, each kicking up a cloud of dust… well, maybe not that," he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I held out my branch and got him, but instead of stopping, he had been unable to slow down the cart. The momentum made him keep going… all the way through the glass doors, and down the steps."

"…And into the pass…?" Ian asks quietly. Alexandre nodded. "Very observant, Zero. Yes. He could not escape the trolley in time and flew off, falling to his death far below. It was on this very night, you know." A shiver ran down Ian's spine.

"No one ever found his body—no one wanted to go down into the canyon to search for it, really. Eventually three groups were sent to retrieve it; they all returned safely, but there was no sign of the corpse—though they did find the trolley, and they were all visibly shaken to the very core. One grasped my shirt and shook me, saying 'By the love of the gods, I pray you never have to see the unholy terrors of that pass!' …He ruined my favourite shirt," says Ivre rather distastefully. "This was two years ago; last year on the anniversary, right before you came along, his spirit returned. He gave me a warning—this year, he said, he would return to wreak vengeance upon all in this hotel. To let us know of his coming, he would give us three signs—first, the lights would flicker on and off. Second, the phone would ring, and there would be no one there; finally, the doors would blow open with a great clattering, like the breaking of glass, and his spirit would arrive on the trolley that caused his death." He takes a sip of tea. "That is, if you're inclined to believe such things."

Ian stares at Ivre in great shock for several moments before finally laughing. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to scare the new guy. Very funny, sir."

"Hm, yes. Funny." Ivre says, drinking from his cup of tea. "…Though I cannot lie, I am somewhat afraid myself…" he adds quietly.

* * *

><p><strong>3:00<strong>

A bitter wind howls outside of the hotel, while Ian and Ivre are resting quietly by the fire, sipping tea (or for Ivre, tea spiked with Jack Daniels). All thoughts of the lobby-boy's ghost has left their minds and now they are making idle conversation—usually joking at the expense of each other or their guests, but still conversing nonetheless—anything to drown out the frightening moans of the outside.

Suddenly, the lights begin to dim and brighten rapidly, finally beginning to alternate between being on and off. Ian looks around weirdly, and Ivre just sits there. "What's going on?" Ian asks worriedly as he notices the outside lights are completely out.

"Oh, you know how the wiring is," says Ivre, waving it all off. "Sometimes it works, others it's faulty. Can't be avoided, especially with wind like this."

"Y-yes. That's certainly it," Ian says. By him, the phone starts ringing off the hook—he picks it up. "Grand Panempest Hotel, Ian Partridge speaking." Pause; weird look. He hangs up the phone. "Nothing. No one was there." His eyes widen in realization, a smirk slowly following it. "I see what's going on here."

"Please, explain it to me," says Ivre.

"You're trying to scare me—you were flickering the lights, and then the phone. That was you!" Ian accuses.

"A fine theory, my dear Zero, though you seem to have left out one thing." At the confused look on the living lobby-boy, Ivre sighs and says, "I'm right HERE!"

"Shit." Ian says as fear begins to overcome him. He is visibly shivering now, holding onto Ivre as a child would a stuffed animal. Ivre is also a little afraid now—he had of course been completely lying to the boy about the ghost thing, but now, he is beginning to wonder.

The wind slams against the windows and walls outside, and branches clack and scrape against the glass panes. The great door begins to shudder slightly, before slamming open with a glassy shattering noise. Ian gasps audibly, whilst Ivre soils himself.

A dark figure is standing in the doorway, with something in a similar shape to a trolley supporting them; they seem to have only one leg.

Ian and Ivre are babbling incoherently as it wheels into the light. Darkness melts away to reveal the stooping form of… Sully from Monsters, Inc.? Oh, and riding on the trolley is his green cyclopean best friend, Mike Wazowski. The pair are smiling and waving at the concierge-lobby boy duo. "Hey guys!" says the great blue beast, having to stoop to keep his horns from hitting the ceiling. The pinkish polka dots on his fur were originally thought by the two to be eyes, because they shone oddly in the darkness.

Ian let out a sigh. "Hey you two. What are you doing up here?"

"We're here to return that trolley. Didn't Sully tell you anything when he called?" asks Mike, looking at Sully, who is smiling and rubbing the back of his neck.

"That was you? Why didn't you say anything?" asks Ian—Ivre has gone to clean himself up.

"I got hit on the head by a rock and I was trying not to yell out curse words," Sully admits. "So I hung up."

"Then… who was flickering the lights?" asks Ivre, returning with a fresh pair of pants.

The lights begin to flicker on and off once more—looking to the corner of the room, right by the wine cellar, the four of them see a tall man in a brown cloak; he is bald and faced away from them. That whole area almost appears to be a black-and-white movie. Turning his head, the man gives them a toothy grin and continues to flicker the lights on and off.

Finally the four friends begin laughing, then shake their heads and smile at the grinning man. "Nosferatu!" they chide happily. The man's smile only widens.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go! My first full-on (hopefully only, but you never know) omake episode! Hope you all enjoyed, I hope to have an actual chapter for the next few days, but I can't promise anything. Anyway, because of my absences I'm allotting a few more days for the reserves, but when that runs out, I've already got two people ready to back up with tributes. Laterz~<strong>

**~Chase**

**P.S. I got a truck y'all! And whenever I go somewhere with my friends, I make two of them sit in the back and I can always say, "Hey! Hey! I got two people in the back of my pickup! You wanna join them?" or when one of them gets out I can say, "Get back in my truck, dammit! Get back in my truck!" ...If you get the reference, I love you. If not, watch Garry's Mod Storm Chasers by UberHaxorNova or ImmortalHD. Lots of cussing, but it's hilarious.**

* * *

><p><em>Tribute list – So far<em>

_District 1 – Luxury Goods_

_Male: Obsidian Gold – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Elizabeth Grace Morgan "Belle" – Rosemarie Benson_

_District 2 – Masonry_

_Male: Nero Valentine – Nightlock Stained Lips_

_Female: Valariea Heroin – HarryPotterNut1_

_District 3 – Technology_

_Male: Oliver Mullins – JaceWillcutt_

_Female: Lattice Kerr – GreenApple312_

_District 4 – Seafood and the like_

_Male: Reserved – LokiThisIsMadness_

_Female: Marina Caspian - o Sweet Disposition o_

_District 5 – Electricity_

_Male: Reserved – David Noklevername_

_Female: Celia Crossan – AlisonBlock_

_District 6 – Transportation_

_Male: Vince Chanel - BubbaKeith_

_Female: Katoptris Ford – ThatMusician_

_District 7 – Lumber_

_Male: Justin Myer – Danny Takuto_

_Female: Capri Dusk – ThatMusician_

_District 8 – Textiles_

_Male: Kestrel Cross - rdfalcon560_

_Female: Lacey Spool – Kittens In The Closet_

_District 9 – Grain_

_Male: Holden Stross – hollowman96_

_Female: Luna Marissa Moonlight Starbright (Joke tribute/Bloodbath) – Hi_

_District 10 – Livestock_

_Male: Axel Adamik – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Lauren Lancaster – Hi_

_District 11 – Agriculture_

_Male: Akakios Hibbert – The Koala of Doom_

_Female: Rebecca Thorne – Comettail76_

_District 12 – Coal_

_Male: Aspen Northill – LincsStef_

_Female: Jasmine Polk – Danny Takuto_


	13. Ivre and Ian's Chocolate with Nuts

**Heeeeey guys, Chase here with another omake chapter. I'm really sorry, but my mom insisted on me and Audri-chan coming back to Texas for a week for pre-wedding pictures and stuff (even though we haven't even started planning, I mean c'mon, we've been engaged for not even a week) so my brain's really exhausted right now. I don't have much to say anyway, but I wanted to let you guys know that until about Wednesday or Thursday, right around then, if I post a new chapter at all, it'll likely be short/an omake. Although there are some people I'd like to say something to… ;)**

**Jace-kun: I dunno about best man, but I could see if she'd be up for a harem? XD But thank ya mate!**

**Danny-kun: Well, he **_**is**_** a drunk who for the past what, four or five chapters has believed he's in a messed-up version of **_**The Grand Budapest Hotel**_**? And you think you're getting old? Let me tell you something bruh, I was eight years old when that episode came out (I still watch Spongebob on an almost weekly basis) and because of my older brother, I understood most of the hidden jokes in the show (*cough*Look, Gary! Doubloons! Don't drop 'em~ *wink**cough*). Lol—also, as soon as I get time, I'll check out your SYOT mate ;) And don't worry—you'll get one. Just don't be a total jag master…**

'**Course, what do I know about any of this stuff? I was completely oblivious until Lex (my twin sister, I think I've mentioned her once or twice) and CJ (my best friend, who also lives with me, her, Audri-chan and several of my other friends) told me… not joking, she'd been into me since 8****th**** grade :P I guess Chase-kun is just a beautiful green beast, ne? *puts on green jumpsuit and strikes a Nice Guy pose***

**But, eh… I've rambled on long enough. Let's get on with it!**

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, The Grand Budapest Hotel, or any sort of references I make in this. The only things I own are Alexandre Ivre, Ian Partridge, and Dane Eclater… and my own life, of course.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>The Grand Panempest Hotel – 16:00<strong>

"So what are we doing today, Zero?"

"Operation: Become Entrepreneurs And Make A Crap Ton of Money!" says Ian dutifully, snapping to attention.

Ian and Ivre have been bouncing around the idea for now, and they've finally decided to do it after stealing some of Eclater's magazines. The pair ordered several truckloads of chocolate, and are planning to go down into the village below to sell the chocolate. Foolproof, right?

Eheheh… you wish.

"Come along, Zero! There's much work to be done."

"Yes sir!"

After the long trek into the village, with Ian carrying all the chocolate on his back (of course, they were skiing down so it made less of a difference) all the way down the mountain. Coming into the village, they went to the first house they found and knocked on the door. It was opened by a man with dark hair and blue eyes. "Yes?"

"Good morning, sir," Ivre says politely; "we were wondering if you'd be interested in buying some chocolate?"

The man's eyes widen like dinner-plates; "Chocolate? Did you say… chocolate?" at Ian's nod and affirmative remark of, "Yes sir, with or without nuts," the man goes into a laughing-screaming fit. "CHOCOLATE! CHOCOLAAAAATE!"

Ian looks at Ivre for guidance; "Zip it and run, Zero!" calls Ivre from already many metres away. Zero—er, Ian, sorry—takes off after Ivre, and the man is close behind him. After several minutes of running, they seem to have lost him. Breathing heavily, Ian asks, "What… the hell… was that?"

"I don't know, my dear Zero. There are crazy people in this world—he was obviously one of them." Ivre says honestly. "Let's go onto the next house."

* * *

><p>At the next house they find a con man. "You two look too smart—and, if I may say, pretty—to be lugging around all those chocolate bars all day. Here, try these. They're candy bar bags."<p>

"…What're they for?" asks Ian.

"They hold the candy bars, ya knucklehead!" the con man says happily; Ian replies: "I'll take 20."

* * *

><p>And so, several more dollars in the hole, Ian and Ivre set out with completely useless bags; they came to another house and knocked on the door. It was answered by a blonde-haired woman. "Yes, what can I do for you two?" she asks. It should also be mentioned that she is only in her dressing gown, as it is still somewhat early in the morning.<p>

"Hello ma'am, we were wondering if you would like to buy some of our delicious chocolate bars? We're chocolate bar salesmen," Ivre says.

"Oh yes, that would be lovely! I'll take one." When Ivre starts digging for one, she looks to Ian. "Well, young man, could I offer you a glass of water while your friend digs for the chocolate bar? It could be a while," she adds, eying the bag. Ian nods gratefully and goes inside with her.

After being given water, he sits down on the couch and she in a chair, her staring at him. "Well… it would appear as if I'm in my dressing gown," she says, allowing the shoulder to droop a little.

"Yes you are." Ian says, sipping on his water.

"There's a strange man in my house…"

"Yes, there is."

"Anything could happen."

Ian finishes his glass and shakes his head quickly. "No." and he walks out of the house, just after Ivre comes in and gives her the candy bar. "That'll be fifty bucks."

* * *

><p>After leaving that house, they are once more chased away by the crazy man yelling "CHOCOLATE!" Finally, they break at a diner, though neither is hungry.<p>

"There's something we're missing here, Ian," Ivre says, shaking his head. "We need a gimmick! I mean, that's how that roach motel across the pass gets all its customers—otherwise it's just plain trash! Do you have any ideas?"

Ian thinks for a moment, then says real loudly, "Let's get naked!" causing everyone in the diner to look at him weirdly for a moment.

Ivre laughs nervously—"No, let's save that for when we're selling real estate. Let me think…"

"Well, they say chocolate's bad for you—maybe if they think it's healthy…?"

"YES! Stretching the truth, well done Zero!" Ivre says happily. "Let's go!"

"Not again…!" Ian whines as he is dragged out the door.

* * *

><p>Their lying spree begins from there—they convince several people of several different things. An old woman and her daughter (who is very much impatient about her mother's death) are tricked into thinking that, when rubbed on someone, the chocolate can make them live forever. A farmer is convinced it will make him smart; Ian's own farther is made to believe that he'll become less ugly (when in all actuality, he is in no way ugly nor handsome). Ivre tricks a group of bodybuilders into thinking that the chocolate will make them double their bench weight, which ended their lying spree and forced them on the run from five muscular men and a crazy "CHOCOLATE!" man.<p>

Which brings them to their current predicament—after stealing a painting entitled "Boy With Apple" in exchange for several chocolate bars, the two have finally been cornered by the crazy man. He laughs maniacally; "I've been trying to catch up with you two all day! And now that I've got you _right where I want you…_" he has a crazed look in his eyes… then he pulls out a bunch of money. "I'd like to buy all your chocolate!"

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><p>Stay tuned for the next omake—Ian and Ivre go fishing! …On Black Lake. (Featuring special guest star, Noel Fielding as Old Gregg!)<p>

"_Hi. Wonderful evening tonight," says the fish-man, looking directly at Ivre. "Whatcha doin' in my waters?"_

"_Oh, y'know, just… taking in the sights! Certainly not fishing," Ivre says in a pathetic whimper. _

"_Don't lie to me boy." _

"_I'm not lying…" Ivre protests._

"_Then why's this hook in my head, fool?" at Ivre's half-hearted lie, the fish-man says, "It's attached to ya rod, motha licka!"_

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><p><strong>So there you go, everyone. I'm sorry about the shortness of this chapter, but I just can't think straight right now. My mind is pretty much blank. Anyway, there'll <strong>_**more than likely **_**be another omake chapter within a couple days. I don't think I need to post the tribute lift since it hasn't changed one bit since last chapter (people who have reserved over the reserves can go ahead and submit). Also, if you're feeling in the mood, go ahead and check out Audri-chan's profile! That's right, she has her own Fanfiction profile (we've actually got a story going on—the two of us, Lex and CJ) although it's not really… set up, I guess you could say. The story she has is really lacking in reviews, so if any of you are into Harry Potter, go and check it out! Her pen name is I Used To Rule The World (kind of a play-in to my name, both of the names coming directly out of Coldplay's "Viva la Vida") so yeah, check her out. **

**Also, did any of you catch the Doctor Who reference I had in there? If so, tell me in the reviews! That's all I've really got for you guys, so... y'know. See you~  
><strong>

**~A Really Exhausted Chase**

**P.S. As I'm writing this last AN, the number of views is exactly equal to the year I was born-that is, 1994 in case you can't count :P (I'm 20. Just subtract from 2014 XD)**


	14. A Medley of Morons

**Hey everybody, long time no see, eheheh… I'm actually extremely sorry about that, but this year in college has been, so far… much harder than I expected. At least two to three essays a week, plus the fact that this week and next week are the midterm exams… well, you can see what's been keeping me. Anyway, this chapter is going to be another filler, although instead of "The Grand Panempest Hotel" it's going to be based off of a set of YouTube videos that are, in a word, hilarious. They include: "Girl Troubles" by Makemebad35; "The Pants Monster" by Makemebad35; "Elephant Puppet" by Makemebad35; and "A Demons Calling" also by Makemebad35. At the end of the chapter, there's going to be a little omake to an omake featuring how they answer the phone at The Grand Panempest Hotel, taken from a YouTube video titled "How to Answer the Phone in 30 Different Cultures" by DizastaMusic. Also, fair warning, there's going to be a fair amount of foul language in the chapter (to keep faithful to the videos) but I'll try to censor it. One final thing, I'm planning to release the first six Reapings in one chapter, or the six chapters at once, to apologize for the wait, but I can only work on the chapters on Fridays and Saturdays because I have to study on the weeknights :/ **

…**anyway, enjoy the chapter~~**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I have no energy to write anything else here.**

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><p>"<strong>Ian's Girl Troubles"<strong>

_Ian Partridge's House, 13:00_

It's a particularly dreary day in the Capitol, and Ian Partridge is sitting in his kitchen, happily enjoying his day off. He is sitting on his counter (he only recently moved in, so he currently lacks an actual table) eating a bowl of Oreo soup (mashed up Oreos in milk), smiling to himself. "Oreos for breakfast is the sh*t!" he says with a grin. He idly slurps up the milk in his bowl while "Everytime I Look for You" by Blink 182 plays, then a sudden tapping on his sliding glass door gets his attention. He sets the bowl and spoon down and gets off the counter, walking to the door. He slides it open and looks outside.

"Hello?" he asks, looking out onto his deck; "Holy sh*t!" Ian says after turning his head and seeing the face of a girl right next to his. She has pale skin and long brown hair, with large, staring brown eyes. "Sorry, you scared me."

She just stares at him. He breaks the silence after a minute, "Umm… okay… who are you?" Nothing. "What are you doing here?" Nothing. "…Why the hell are you standing out in the rain?!"

Suddenly the girl's mouth opens and a small scream erupts from her vocal chords. Ian looks at her weirdly and says, "What the f*ck?!" She returns to her staring; "Here… give me a moment," Ian says, sliding the door shut and picking his cellphone off the counter.

_Presidential Mansion, several miles away_

"Finally… after several weeks I have finished the entirety of the 87th Hunger Games!" Ivre says, looking directly at the camera with a small frown. "Damned Chase…"

_Ryoute ni wa Gloria, Utau no wa Sieg, Senaka ni wa Flügel der Freiheit  
>(Diese elenden Biester…)<br>Nigirishimeta ketsui o hidari mune ni, Kirisaku no wa Ringe der Torheit  
>(…Werden vernichtet!)<br>Soukyuu o mau—  
>Flügel der Freiheit!<em>

"Mm? Oh, must be Zero!" Ivre says happily as he looks over at his phone, recognizing the ringtone for his companion. He picks it up with a smile. "Ah, good morning Zero!"

_Zero—er, Ian's—house_

"Yeah, hey, Mr. Pres—er, _Gustave_." Ian corrects himself; "Um… so there's this girl at my place, and I have _no_ _idea_ who she is."

"Hmm, seems like you have quite a dilemma there, Zero. You have no clue who she is?"

"Right."

"…Did you f*ck her?"

"NO!" Ian says indignantly. "She's not even talking!"

"HELL YES~" Ivre says, "even better, my boy!"

"…I want to know how to get her OUT of here!" Ian grumbles.

"Here's what you do—first, you screw her. Then I'll call in the Peacekeepers for you."

"You're about as much help as someone in a horror movie!" Ian says, ending the call. He hears the glass door sliding open, and sees the girl walk into his house. "HEY! Where do you think you're going?! Get the hell out of my house!" he cries, running after her.

She walks into his carpeted living room, him padding after her. "What the hell are you doing here?" Nothing; she just stares at him from his couch. He then attempts to make funny faces at her to make her laugh—he only gets the same blank expression. "CAN YOU _SPEAK_?" He sighs at no response. The silver-haired man suddenly gets the idea to hand her a pen and notepad; "Can you _write_?" he asks.

The girl takes the paper gingerly and begins to write; "Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster, you're just deaf…" he says; then she passes the pad back to him and he sees… she just scribbled on it. "Ah, yes, I see; scribble-scrabble sh*t, this tells me nothing!"

"LEPRECHAUN!" the sound comes from her mouth in a shriek; she steps up onto the couch, pointing fearfully at the ground.

"What the f*ck?!"

"LEPRECHAUN!" she keeps shrieking, still shaking her finger at the ground.

"…AH! Yes, I see him! There he goes, quick!" Ian says, pointing at a random spot on the ground. "Hurry!" he yells, running with her following. He grins to himself as he reaches the glass door and slides it open: "C'mon, hurry! Outside, don't let him escape!"

Her screams of "Leprechaun!" echo even after she is long gone from the house.

"And good f*cking riddance!" Ian says, slamming the glass door shut. "…I need a shower." He adds, heading toward his bathroom. He pulls the shower curtains back, and…

"LEPRECHAUN!" the girl is standing in his shower.

"WHAT THE F*CK?!"

**End Scene.**

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><p>"<strong>Mr. Popo"<strong>

"So, you understand the dare, yes?" Ivre asks Zero, standing in front of the doors to a large store. Ian stands there, hanging his head with a small puppet attached to his hand.

"Yes… I have to go into the store and recite Mr. Popo's lines from the DBZ Abridged Series, as well as things that Popo would likely say." Ian sighed.

"Good boy! But you forgot the part where I'm getting it all on camera~"

"*sigh*"

_Later on, in the store_

Ian is standing around a group of people gawking at the newest computer on the market, complete with Microsoft 9001. He holds up the puppet, which is an actually surprisingly good representation of Mr. Popo, and begins laughing maniacally in a Popo-esque voice. They all look at him weirdly, several of them backing away slowly.

Several minutes later, a mom-son duo is walking down an aisle with the storage for dog food, and Ian and Popo-puppet slide through one of the storage bins and say, "Pecking order, maggots!" causing the mother to jump several feet into the air, whilst Ivre is laughing madly at the end of the aisle.

This insanity goes on for several hours, and by the end most of the customers have gathered in the frozen pizza section, huddled together for safety and warmth. "Alright, so we've all agreed that we're afraid of that crazy dude with the Popo puppet, right?" After several nods of assent, the customer who spoke stands up. "LET'S TAKE BACK THIS SHOP!"

"Oh really? Pecking order!"

"Shove your pecking order up your—"

"BYE~"

…Long story short, all the customers died of fright and Ian and Ivre had to flee from the Peacekeepers once more.

**End Scene.**

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><p>"<em>The Pants Monster"<em>

The day started relatively simple. A drive through the country with the President and Head Gamemaker; how bad could it be, honestly?

Ian Partridge soon found out. He had asked the perpetually drunk president to fill up his brand new Camaro with gas before the trip, and when he returned the car with what appeared to be less gas than it had before, Ian simply chalked it up to a malfunction.

…now here they are, broken down on the side of a forested road, with Ian staring at the ground whilst Ivre apologizes profusely. "I'm sorry Zero! A talking horse told me that if you put lemonade into a car, it would work the same as gas!"

"A… talking horse?" Ian mutters, his left eye twitching.

"I thought we agreed you would stop speaking to Jean Kirstein," says Eclater. This causes Ivre to shake his head—"No, I mean an actual talking horse. I haven't spoken to Jean since I played Halo with him last week."

"Where the hell did you meet a talking horse?" Ian sighs exasperatedly.

"The liquor store."

"_Now do you see why we don't let you leave the mansion while drunk?_" says the silver-haired intern.

"…He's right you know," Eclater says. He shakes his head slightly and points over to a run-down cabin across the road, partially secluded by trees. It is made of a dark wood and a few boards are broken in places, and some windows are broken. "See if there's anyone there who can help us."

Ivre sighs and nods. "Alright," he says dejectedly, walking to the cabin. He passes by a few stacks of logs with pants strewn over them; "...that's not at all creepy," he mutters, walking up the porch. The railing is also covered in pants. He inwardly shudders at this, slowly making his way to the screen door, knocking on it. "Hello?" he calls.

Back at the car, Ian and Dane are conversing. "So did you hear about Marco Bodt? You know, Kirstein's roommate? Yeah, he gets his clothes half off now." Eclater says.

"GUYS! GO! F*CKING RUN!" they hear Ivre scream from across the street. They look up from the car to see said president running toward them as if all hell were on his heels. "INTO THE FOREST!"

"What...?" Ian and Dane say together as Ivre blazes past them. They look back and see a tall humanoid covered in pants clambering towards them. With each step it mutters, "Pants..."

"What the _hell_ is that thing?!" Ian asks darkly, sweatdropping at the clumsy manner the thing walks.

"I dunno, but it's coming this way," Dane deadpans. "I'm not sure whether to run or what..." the two duck quickly as a log flies over their heads. "...I've changed my mind. RUN!"

And thus the two take off into the forest, leaping over downed trees, dodging under branches, until they are both pulled aside into a small cave. "Wha-" Ian starts, but they see it is Ivre, who shushes them.

"Sir, what the hell is going on...?" Ian demands as they peek out of the cave, watching the creature lumber past them, constantly muttering pants.

"I do not know Zero, but I can only assume that the monster is after our pants. Thus I shall call him... the pants monster," Ivre replies softly.

"Pants?" comes a loud voice from behind them. The three turn to see that not only is the cave more of a tunnel-that is to say, open on both ends-but that the thusly dubbed Pants Monster has found them!

"Run away!" Ivre cries, taking off once more. Ian runs quickly after him, clambering up a tree, leaving Dane and the Pants Monster.

Dane stands stock-still, staring the monster directly in the eye, as they are both the same height. The man quickly rips his sleeves off, revealing muscular arms, and with a mighty yell he swings at the monster. "SHANNAROOOOOO!" his fist impacts against the monster's face, and... "Huh?! I'm stuck!" he finds that he cannot remove his fist. The monster's arms grip him, and...

_Several metres away, with Ivre_

"Huh? That was Dane," Ivre remarks, hearing a loud scream. There's a sudden crash, and another scream. "Zero..." he says softly. It's just him now. Just him.

He has stripped himself of his shirt, rolling around in mud for camouflage. He has made his way to the edge of the forest, and the road is in sight, until he hears a loud, "PAAAANTSSSSS!" Ivre turns around quickly, the denim of the Pants Monster being the last thing he sees as the monster's fist strikes him.

**End Scene.**

* * *

><p><strong>Omake<strong>

Back in the President's mansion, Ivre wakes up from a horrid dream to the ringing of his telephone. He rubs his eyes and knocks over a bottle of Jack Daniels, and immediately yells for Zero. "Zero, answer the phone!"

Downstairs Ian hears this command and picks up the phone dutifully. He glances at the caller id and notices that it is an irregular number. "It is an unrecognized number, sir!" he calls back.

"Then do the protocol, Zero!"

"On it, sir!" Ian replies, answering the phone. "I HAVE NO MONEY! AHAHAHAHAHAH...!" and he slams the phone back down. Several moments later another number similar to that calls. He answers it and says in a quiet voice, "Hello? I'm calling for the hot sexy singles in my area..." and slams the phone down. And once more it calls, and this time he puts on a blue wig. "_BITCH!_" he says in a pompous voice, slamming the phone down one last time.

Then Ian looks up at the camera with a cheesy grin and says, "And that, folks, is how you deal with telemarketers. Now if Chase will just finish the damn Reapings..."

* * *

><p><strong>Ooooookay, that'll be enough of that, lad. Anyways everybody, I want to apologize so much for this long delay and with no form of communications, but school just got away with me. I know that's hardly an excuse, but that's all I can say in my defence, and I really am sorry. But before I sign off I want you all to answer me something: would you mind waiting for a few weeks and getting the first six Reapings out all at once, or would you rather just have them at a constant flow? Because you've got to understand that the Reapings take a fair amount of time to write because I want them to be true to the characters given to me. Anyways y'all, I'll be signing off here. Take care, brush yo' hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, have a happy New Year and hope you had a Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, or happy holidays if you don't. Peace!<strong>

**~Chase**

**P.S. I hope you find it in your hearts to forgive me :3 although I'll understand if you don't.**


	15. Author's Note

**BAHAAHAH GOT YA FOOLS! THIS AIN'T NO AUTHORS NOTE, YA SCRUBS! Eheheh, just kidding. Read on, my friends!**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. <strong>

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><p><span><strong>Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)<strong>

"AAAAND 500!"

I straighten my arms and push the barbell back into place, sitting up from the bench. Five-hundred reps, the weights set at fifty pounds; that is my usual morning workout. Wiping sweat from my brow, I take in a deep breath; "Man, I'm thirsty." I say quietly.

Standing up and stretching my stiff legs, I glance around the basement. Spread throughout the dimly lit area are various training equipment—treadmills, medicine balls, weight racks and the like. At a much wider end, a long mirror runs along the wall—so that I could watch myself while sparring or shadowboxing, so I can always know what I do and what I can do. I really look as if I'm not to be considered much of a threat: I'm shorter than most people from my District (I look more like a sixteen-year-old than an eighteen-year-old) and the lack of muscle definition in my body. Some others take me lightly because of the way I have my hair—it's dark blue, like a sapphire, and in a buzz cut; the people who doubt me because of that are among the people I enjoy taking down the most. I'm still in my workout clothes—a purplish tank top with grey gym shorts. I'll have to change before the Reapings.

I grin fiercely at my mirror self. "Get ready, Capitol. I hope you have some good fighters this year… because Obsidian Gold is coming. And soon… everyone will know that I am a force to be reckoned with."

("YEAH! TOO BAD YOU'RE A BIG NEEEEERD~" slurs Ivre, far away in the Capitol, to which Ian yells back, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!")

* * *

><p><span><strong>Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)<strong>

I quietly pull a dusty book from a large wooden shelf, gently blowing some dust off of the faded leather cover. It's still a little rough to make out, so I use my faded lavender t-shirt to wipe it ever-so-softly. "The Epic of Gilgamesh," I breathe out softly, smiling a little.

"Find something, Belle?" a pair of slender arms wrap around my torso, and I feel her warm breath on my neck. My smile widens at the sound of her Russian accent. I turn my head slightly and see the smiling face of my girlfriend, Anya Petrov. Our shared love of archaeology and all things ancient brought us together, as it is now.

"Yeah—it's a really, really old copy of Gilgamesh," I say happily, brushing aside some of my red hair.

Recently we had found an abandoned old warehouse used by the Capitol, and though its full purpose is unknowable, we can only assume that it was at the very least storage; although one can only wonder why they would have so many old treasures and artifacts in here…

"Let's crack it open," Anya says immediately, releasing me from her embrace. I nod gently and brush my hand over the rough leather before opening it slowly, careful not to tear any of the desiccated pages. The print of the first page, though faded and dusty, is legible enough, written deliberately in cursive from what appears to be a fountain pen. She chuckles slightly and says, "I've never seen one in this condition before. This place really is a treasure trove, huh?"

"Yeah… it's wonderful," I say wistfully, taking a deep breath; then I begin to cough violently, having accidentally inhaled some dust. Anya giggles slightly, knowing exactly what happened; this isn't the first time, if you must know!

Anya hands me a canvas bag and I place the book inside gingerly. I look at my wristwatch and sigh audibly. "It looks like we'll have to wait to finish up that shelf, Anya. I need to be home to change."

She kisses my cheek and nods. "Alright. Papa will be expecting me home as well," and together we walk out of the building, canvas bag in hand.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)<strong>

Eagerly I wait in the line for eighteen year old males, struggling to keep my excitement in check. After I finished my workout I took a steamy shower, then changed into my reaping outfit: a dark charcoal-coloured suit with a blue tie and black dress shoes. I put some gel into my hair and tamed it a bit, running a comb through it quickly, and then, myself not being one for vanity, I simply said, "Screw it!" and went to the Reapings.

Without any struggle, I permitted the Peackeepers to take my blood sample. Upon reaching my spot in the line, I made polite, though not too immersive conversation with the boys beside me. They were nice enough, though musclebound morons—they'd have no shot here.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)<strong>

I stand indifferently in the line for sixteen-year-olds, chatting with Anya and a few other girls. The entire square is decked out to the max, as it always is; decorations hang from buildings, strung across the streets and adorning windows and lampposts. Such blood-sport disgusts me; but I suppose that I'll have to call myself a hypocrite for what I'm about to do. Anya's been trying to talk me out of it, but since then she has given in, knowing well enough that when I am set in my ways nothing will change them.

The District's escort, a very flamboyant man named Carter, skips out onto the stage with an aura of pep that washes over us like a poisonous cloud. His long curly white hair bounces with every skip, and his teeth shine a brilliant white. When he steps up to the microphone he says in a very girlish voice, "Hello District One!" and a cheer rises up like a peal of thunder. "Welcome to the Reapings for the Eighty-seventh annual HUNGER GAMES~!"

Screams and cheers echo like battle-cries from ancient wars, and Carter flashes a blinding smile. "WONDERFUL! That spirit, I _loooove_ it! Now without further ado, I shall begin the Reapings!" he totters over to a pair of glass bowls on separate podiums and places a white glove onto his hand; he dives into a sea of paper and withdraws clutching a slip.

"For the girls, we have Rose Tyler…" he begins, but a chorus of, "I VOLUNTEER!" and a bit of a scuffle interrupts him. Whilst all those girls are fighting, I take advantage of the fact that I'm smaller than most of them to weave through the crowd and into the centre lane.

"I volunteer." I say calmly, making my way up toward the stage and up the stairs. Carter grins at me; "Quite clever," he says to me, "taking advantage of that brawl. Good to have you aboard." He offers me his hand, which I shake indifferently.

"Might I know the name of our new tribute?" he asks serenely.

I nod and respond, "Elizabeth Morgan."

Carter smiles and announces into the microphone, "Elizabeth Morgan is our volunteer!"

There are no cheers; looks of confusion and a bit of anger are the prevalent expressions throughout the crowd. Anya looks saddened. However, there are a few potential tribute males who look impressed at my bravery; there's no doubt that there are more qualified girls, but the fact that I volunteered must have earned some sort of respect from them.

"And now, let us find our boy!" Carter calls, trotting back over to the glass bowls.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)<strong>

"And now, let us find our boy!"

Alright Obsidian, don't let them get the best of you… you didn't get yourself all fancied up for nothing…

Carter's hand dips into a different glass bowl and pulls out another paper slip, off of which he reads, "Benedict Cumberbatch…" and yet another ruckus sets off. There's a particularly intense struggle around me, and seeing as I'm one of the shorter people of my age group I push through with little trouble, slugging a couple of idiots right in the face, knocking them to the ground. There's a 17-year-old who I know slightly—his name is Uncle Ruckus (no relation), and yes, his first name is, in fact, Uncle—that tries to push me aside, but a quick elbow drops him. Proudly I stride up to the stage amidst a sea of cheers.

"Quite impressive!" says Carter loudly. "What is your name, young man?"

"Obsidian Gold," I say gruffly; I grab his microphone and turn to the crowd. "District One, look upon the face of this years' victor! Look upon it, and tremble with pride!"

"Eheheh, yes, well that's nice," Carter says, a bit off-put that I took his spotlight; he snatches the microphone back and finishes, "There you have them, District One! Your tributes!" a loud roar of applause breaks out and above the din Carter calls, "C'mon you two! Do a little twirl for them!"

Elizabeth and I share a look and then at the same time kick Carter in the shin, bringing him to his knees; a small chuckle passes between us but there's no sign of much emotion nor empathy.

* * *

><p>After a bit of a speech by Carter, he takes us to the Justice Building, which is a tall, beautiful building adorned with all sorts of decorations for the Reaping. Meh; personally I've never understood the appeal, just people murdering each other for riches.<p>

Don't get me wrong, the money's all good on my end. Hell, it makes it more appealing; the violence is only part of the deal. However, I've never seen why people get so crazy about it, other than placing bets and all. Elizabeth and I ascend the elevator in silence, though offering each other a small smile for a moment. When the elevator stops and opens up, we are ushered into separate rooms.

The rooms themselves are nothing special, for the most part austere with only a bit of tacky furniture. The first visit I get is from my mother, Cherry; she and I are very much alike in appearance, including original hair colour: naturally we are both brown-haired. She has a look in her eyes that is a mixture of pride and sadness. "Obsidian," she says, embracing me.

"Hello mother," I reply softly, returning the hug. "I don't suppose father is coming?"

"No, but he sends his love." How ironic; bastard's probably out shagging some Capitol chick. A few years ago he and my mother divorced, but I was required to stay with him for some bullcrap reason. Either way, my mother has always been there for me. Slowly she takes my hand. "Obsidian, I do not have much time, so I will make it short; I believe in you, my son; take this as your token."

She places something into my hand, and I close my fingers around it; she kisses my cheek and leaves. Slowly I open my hand once more and see that it was her wedding ring; she hasn't worn this in years.

The door opens once more, and the small form of my best friend Violet rushes in. She's short (even shorter than myself) and slim with pale skin and dark blue hair; she hugs me tightly and looks up at me with pale eyes brimming with tears. "Obsidian…" she says softly, burying her face against my chest; tentatively I embrace her as well, if only to bring her comfort. "Why?"

"…I have to prove myself, Violet," I respond quietly, "the name of Gold has to be restored, and I'm going to do it." I look down at her and notice a small blush working its way onto her face. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in the Capitol?"

"F-father came to place bets," she replies shyly, "and I c-couldn't not say goodbye… not without t-telling you…" she trails off.

"Telling me what?" I ask after a moment, rubbing her back gently.

"Obsidian, I… I love you!" she says in a burst of unusual confidence.

"E-eh?" I say quickly, taken aback at her revelation. Looking back, though… it does kind of make sense; she's always been really shy around me, blushing… but I've never taken note of this, not until now. Though I must admit that I've never thought of her in that way, I can't deny that she is cute…

* * *

><p><em><strong>Back in the Capitol, short intermission<strong>_

Ivre is watching the turnout of this goodbye session through a system of cameras rigged throughout every Justice Building in Panem. He is cringing quite obviously and his faithful sidekick Ian—er, pardon, Zero—is taking notice.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Ian asks.

"No, Zero, everything is _fine_," Ivre says sarcastically. "It's only the real-world version of my most hated pairing coming true!"

"What do you mean sir?"

"JUST LOOK AT THAT GIRL! Does she not look like Hinata Hyuuga from _Naruto_?!" the president cries, resting his head against his hands. "And I'm pretty sure she said the exact. Same. Words. DAMMIT!"

"What's so bad about that? Naruto and Hinata are great together…" Ian trails off at the glare Ivre is giving him.

"Zero, if you value your life you will never say such blasphemy. Ever. Again."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Er… um… yeah, back at D1, still with Obsidian<strong>_

"I love you, Obsidian-kun!" says Violet, her eyes sparkling.

**(In the Capitol, Ivre brims with anger; "OH COME THE F*CK ON! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS BULLSH*T!")**

"Violet… I'm not sure whether it is love I feel for you or not," I say softly, looking her in the eyes. "But I will have a definite answer for you… when I come back." Leaning my head forward, I gently press my lips to hers.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)<strong>

I suppose Obsidian seems nice enough; we've spoken a few times at school, though I doubt he remembers much of it. But, ah, where were we? Ah yes; the goodbyes. Mother and father, they were quite brief, as father had Peacekeeper duties to see to and mother did not specify though I knew it must be important. But Anya…

She comes in with tears in her eyes, and rushes me and nearly tackles me to the ground. "Why'd you have to do this, Belle?!" she says softly.

I shrug slightly and say with a small chuckle, "It was probably going to happen sooner or later, and I want to prove my worth to the livestock of this District."

"This isn't funny." She frowns. "You could die!"

"I'm _not_ going to die."

"Did you see Obsidian?! And let us not think of the other tributes who will be coming!"

"I do not doubt that there will be others who are stronger," I say confidently, "though I will not accept death; not now, not ever. Not until I return victorious."

"You are really serious about this." She sounds defeated. I nod gently, and she pulls me back to my feet. She digs in her leather purse and pulls out something; it is my notebook! "You left this at the warehouse. Record your experience. Use it as your token."

I take it gingerly, flipping through it, reminiscing slightly and laughing at the amount of notes in it. "I'll have to find a few free pages," I respond, taking her hand and squeezing it. "But I will. And I will record the moment of my victory."

She brings her hand up and caresses my cheek gently. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong>AAAAANNNNND THAT'S A WRAP EVERYBODY! Y'ALL CAN GO HOME NOW!<strong>

**Crew: WOO! 3 day weekend, f*ck yeah! *Everybody starts taking away all the set and props* Later Chase! Later, actors!**

**Bye guys, have a good weekend… jeez. Sometimes I hate being the director—especially when I have to deal with those outbursts from Ivre.**

**My lovable Tortoise sidekick: B-but Ivre's pairings bias are based off of yourself…**

**Yes but it's still annoying nonetheless. Either way, let's get to the actual goodbyes.**

**Tortoise: Right.**

**So yeah, welcome back everyone! I wanted to post this as a bit of a teaser as for what is to come—but yes, this is a full chapter by itself. I hope you all enjoyed, and Danny-kun and Rosemarie-san, I hope the two of you enjoyed how I wrote your characters! Tell me if I got any inaccuracies to correct in the next few chapters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Anyways for the questions: Jace-kun, Danny-kun, it's good to hear from you two, you have no idea how much I actually smiled at seeing your reviews. <strong>

**Jace-kun: She's great, thanks for asking! But I promise, I'll try to get the chapters out quicker, I don't like making people cry :'(**

**Tortoise: Then you should stop looking at people…**

**You be quiet, you damned reptile.**

**Tortoise: HELP HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!**

**Danny-kun: I am most certainly alive, it was merely that college was killing me mate, needed a bit of a break from everything—and I did what I could to get rid of that dungeon, although I think my sister may have taken the stuff and is planning to use them against me. (p.s. I'm in there right now, send help) But be happy, the first we see of the tributes is from ya boy Obsidian! **

**Anyways, take care, brush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, peace~**

**Chase~**


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